Blood Emerald
Page 31
“Mr. Nassar, please, Veronique Moreau calling.” She waited an interminable amount of time for him to pick up.
“Veronique! I haven’t heard from you since last year’s unfortunate events. I’m sorry to hear about your Papa’s death.”
“Omar, it’s good to hear your voice.” She began tragically. “Yes, Papa is gone.” She played Omar with a mournful beat of silence. “In the midst of my bereavement I’ve lost a bet.”
“Oh, my dear, what can I do to help the fledgling of one of my oldest friends?”
Veronique sighed and winced at what she was about to do. “I’m stuck in Chad. Have you ever been to Chad?”
“Oh, dear child. Are you near the airport?”
“Yes. I am. I have found myself stranded without a passport.” She sniffed dramatically. “Daylight is breaking and I have nowhere to go to ground.”
“Veronique, dear, you wait at the terminal, it’s small but safe. The banking center is the most protected for you. I’m sending my plane. I’ll arrange for your safe passage back to Haiti.”
“I knew you could help me. I simply have no words! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“Please let me know you’ve arrived safely. Do you need help with the authorities there?”
“Thank you, but no, Omar, I still have many friends within the Haitian government.”
* * * *
Settled in the leather luxury of Omar Nassar’s private jet, Veronique plotted the ultimate revenge. Death was too immediate for Rick Hiatt and Matt Brenner. She intended for them to suffer long and cruelly. The most direct way to accomplish that was with the torturous deaths of their mates, the blame for which would be laid directly at their feet. If she were lucky, she’d come out of it a billion dollars ahead. It’s called doubling down.
It was easy to rent a hotel room for a week in Chad. No one had reason to suspect it remained empty. It would take one day at most to have her passport replaced in Haiti, and another to get back to the United Kingdom.
* * * *
Anna and Cat hovered in the shadows of the staircase. Cat whispered, “What do you think they’re up to?”
“Probably a little of what we’re trying to pull off.” Anna moved the curtain to hide from Matt and Rick who were getting into one of the property’s Range Rovers.
“Well then, as soon as they’re out of sight, we can boogie over to Dublin and pick up the miniature.”
Anna gave the sky an assessing glance. “The weather is on your side, Cat, it’s due to be overcast all day. If you ride in the back, will you be okay?”
Cat nodded. “Ready any time you are.”
* * * *
Veronique watched the two women as they giggled their way down the sidewalk, paying no attention to their surroundings. Typical. Veronique clicked the cloned car key and made adjustments to the dome light. She loved the fact that Rick had an affinity for triple-black automobiles. She checked her pocket for the syringes. The one in her right pocket was a well-known human sedative. The one in her left pocket was a special cocktail of paralytics used to immobilize vampires. Relocking the doors, this spider just had to lay in wait.
Veronique reveled in her vampirism—no more puny human mimicry for her! Her vampire hearing easily detected familiar voices over the din of street sounds. Anticipation danced within her when she heard Anna’s boots on the pavement. Her need burgeoned when the locks clicked. Patience is a virtue. Just as predicted, the ladies entered the front seat and clicked into safety belts. Seat belts insure such a false sense of security. Anna keyed the ignition and the radio drowned the sound of Veronique’s movement. They sat chatting about their next stop. What a rush! Veronique palmed the two syringes, rose up from the back seat utilizing vampire speed, and simultaneously directed her aim into their necks. There was a small jolt of recognition in Anna’s eyes as she slipped into oblivion. Cat’s unresponsive gaze registered mute confusion.
Employing preternatural strength, she pulled Cat through the center console onto the back seat and then went to the driver’s side to push Anna into a lump in the passenger’s seat. Putting the car in gear, she floored the Range Rover into thin traffic earning a blare of horns. Bite me. She giggled, high on her conquest. Veronique followed the navigation system to a private dock.
The small boat she rented would be waiting for her. It invigorated her to buy the services of a strapping fisherman who was stupid enough to agree to transport a casket to Lamb Island after dark. She pulled into a private garage where her pre-rented pickup truck held one wide coffin.
It was nothing to load the women face to face into the casket and slide it into the covered truck bed. She hastily grabbed the duffle bag with clothes and some old school vampire restraints. Her undead heart nearly bounded out of her chest as she spied her fisherman smoking on the dock. What a nasty habit.
Veronique practiced her ‘active grieving’ skills while the coffin was maneuvered onto a landscape four-wheel vehicle. “Yes, I’m transporting my husband to the church’s grave yard. He was a very private person.” She lured the Irishman back to the chapel and when the burden was rolled into the aisle, she paused. “Are you hungry? I could go for a bite, couldn’t you?” That gave her free rein of the use of a fairly manageable boat.
The old chapel was haunting at this hour. The full moon cast shadows of the monuments to earlier island residents. An ornate stone path led to an archaic well, it was mostly dry now and not exceptionally deep, but it would suit her purposes. Anna’s body slumped in her arms. Dead weight, what an apt description of Rick’s little tart. Cat’s dead-eyed gaze shook even Veronique’s reserve. Before she lowered Matt’s mate into the well she carefully tightened the titanium and silver manacles to her wrists, ankles and waist. It was tricky to get the two women chained together. It was a tight fit for three.
Veronique caught Cat’s chin in her hand. “You are not mature enough to pull the bolt out of the ground, especially with your friend chained to you. Enjoy yourselves. I think it’s marvelous to dine with friends, even more of an adventure when you dine on friends. By the way, enjoy the hallucinogens I’ve added to her blood.” With that, Veronique accomplished what she knew Cat was unable to do, she climbed the walls like the spider she was. She wouldn’t use her phone, she knew that was too easy to trace. Her brand new tablet was just the thing. She used a virtual private network. She’d never get caught. A photo or two would lend credence to her claims. She checked her tablet and found just enough bars to send an email.
Dear Sirs,
This is to inform you of the impending deaths of your mates. Attached is a photo that is proof of life, for however long it lasts. Be assured, once the paralytic wears off and the sun rises, Mrs. Brenner should find Ms. Curley’s blood quite a tasty meal ready to eat. Rick, it was a challenge in close quarters to inflict suffering on a mortal. However, I believe the hallucinogens I’ve injected into your little Cupcake should keep her rattled all night, especially when Catherine begins to develop a hunger. Then, they can enjoy the trip together.
Should you and Matt wish to prevent this horrific chain of events, please alter the articles of incorporation for the Consort Group International Board to install me as majority owner. If you move quickly enough, I may be able to get back to the damsels in distress before their trauma is too great. If your women are like you, the guilt of hurting one another would be devastating.
Please have the necessary paperwork notarized and forwarded to my solicitor’s office in care of this email. I’ll expect hard copies to the address below within twelve hours. This should all make for an entertaining night.
Don’t fuck with me boys,
Veronique Moreau
She promptly received notification: your message has been read.
* * * *
“If we send this, they’re dead. If we don’t, they’re dead.” Rick paced, staring at a printed copy of the email.
Matt went into detective mode the minute Rick pressed the print button. “Adam has the chops
to decode the IP address, they haven’t been gone that long. The Rover was parked at a private garage at 5:45. This email was sent at 7:13.
“What good is an IP address when we have no location on the women?” Rick dropped the paper on the desk and threw up his hands.
All the tension of a kidnapping blew through Matt’s cop mind. His training hadn’t included him as the mark.
* * * *
Cat felt the damp soaking through her clothes and phantoms slithering across her skin. She knew she was restrained at her wrists, waist and ankles. She could only assume the restraint was tainted with silver. She could feel the burn. There was a sound of trickling water, she knew they were below ground level. She had seen the woman intermittently while she affixed the restraints. She felt Anna chained to face her, the mortal woman’s body growing progressively colder. Cat felt the sensation of falling when the woman dropped them into the stony prison.
Matt brought her a treat of A negative for ‘breakfast’ today, and that had been how many hours ago? They rose early, each of them claiming ‘things to do.’ So, her last meal would have been around four in the afternoon. What time was it now? She searched every sense and found no time marker. At least she wasn’t hungry now, she’d hang on to that. She prayed to the Creator for divine intervention. She had no other recourse.
* * * *
It was sub-marine heaven, that moment when your tummy is comfortably full and the floating feeling transports your heart to your happiest place. Nessa glided with the current, at peace with herself and the universe, a time of perfect clarity.
* * * *
Anna struggled against the darkness. It came at her in mosaics of color, wicked, terrifying and frigid. She fought and found herself restrained. Did she dare try to open her eyes and see the cold body she was chained against? What if it’s Rick? What if he is truly dead? The witch hadn’t cackled, her voice was mellow and threatening. Images of being lowered into this hell flashed with stained glass fragmentation. Cat’s rigid body was the cold, dead thing tied to her. Anna fought, testing the restraints. She was mired in chains and the stench of mold and moss. “Cat! Can’t you move?” Anna shook her body vigorously to elicit a response. Cat’s dead weight frightened her. In Anna’s trance, Cat’s blue eyes spun in musical movement and shattered. Anna screamed to the stars, “Dear God, help us!”
* * * *
Replete with her own dinner, Nessa scouted a swarm of eels and dove into their midst. If she carried a dozen or so back to her den, she would be greeted with smiles. And there it was again, that piercing wail reverberating within her, as if touched by a tuning fork. She was far too deep in the loch to hear sounds, which meant, this was a psychic scream. As she slipped gracefully toward the shore she felt an unnerving pluck to her spine. Agitated, she dropped the eels and turned her massive body in all four directions waiting for the cry to re-emerge. A golden eagle crested the treetops and circled above her furiously, the screech causing Nessa to shake her head. This was no invitation to glide the air alongside her friend. This was a demand to be answered. “You heard it too? Where’s it coming from?” The beauty of telepathy was the use of pictures in exchange for words. Nessa immediately saw an island in her mind’s eye. But which island?
* * * *
Matt was grateful they hadn’t yet put up walls separating the study from the great hall. It allowed him to monitor both Rick in mogul mode and the responders in search mode. Rick gestured him over to the desk. “I need you to sign where the arrows indicate.”
“We agree that doing this will be our last ditch effort? Statistically, paying the kidnapper just buys you a body. Do you expect more from Veronique?”
Rick fell into his chair, his head dropped back. “They are worth more than our fortune. Without Anna, I’ll be nothing.”
“I’m there with you.” Matt washed a hand over his grim face. He picked up the pen and let Rick flip the pages as he signed.
“This covers all contingencies.” Rick’s voice broke.
Adam flagged Matt to the other side of the massive room. “The responders have established the possible radius of their location. Cameras all over Ireland are using facial recognition to search for her. So far, there’s nothing, but search parties are out.”
Matt was a caged man. “I’d feel like I was accomplishing something if I was out there. Adam, isn’t there a way to take me up for an aerial view?”
Adam turned in frustration, walked toward the window and surveyed the darkness. “It’s not like dropping your fangs. It’s been ages since I shifted. The massacre was a visceral reaction to physical threats. I’m so out of touch with my dragon…”
“How much more threat do you want? You want me fangs out in your face?” Adam jumped back at Matt’s instantaneous transformation.
“Matt, you know I’ll do anything for you. I’ll shift, but I won’t take you up with me. If I can’t hold it, you’ll be jelly. Let me search the sea. It will take the responders some time to get to that area.”
* * * *
Veronique scheduled a massage, manicure and pedicure once she docked the boat in Dundalk, Ireland. She relaxed on the massage table while she ruminated over all the hurdles Rick and Matt were jumping. Somebody in this situation has to keep calm, might as well be me. It is tragic what cobblestone can do to a manicure.
* * * *
Anna was not sure how long she napped. The music of the crickets and night sounds dragged her out of a multi-colored dream. Looking up, she saw the stars racing against the blue-black sky. She wasn’t sure where her body ended and Cat’s began, they were that close. One moment she had perfect clarity, the next she railed against the chains. The shock of Cat touching her wrist broke her panic.
“Anna, she gave you a hallucinogen. What you’re seeing isn’t real.”
“If this isn’t real, where are we?”
“I think we’re in a well.”
Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, Anna swiveled her head around their prison and back to the sky. “Cat…” Her voice trailed out the name. “Your hair is brilliant as moonbeams. Your skin…” Anna leaned forward to brush her cheek against Cat’s. “Your skin is like peaches. When is Rick coming to get us?”
Cat pulled back from Anna. “Honey, I don’t know how they’ll find us.”
Anna shrugged back from Cat, pulling her closer. “Let me ask the eagle…”
* * * *
Cat sighed and found she could hang her head. Thank God, the paralytic was wearing off.
Anna’s gaze darted around the dark hole and up to the sky. Cat couldn’t imagine what she was seeing, but Anna described it well. “Can you see how we’re all connected? Every creature has a silver cord…not you…I’m sorry…”
“That must be pretty.” Cat swallowed hard, she tried to stare at the moss over Anna’s shoulder. The contact between their cheeks stirred her awareness of the magnificent road map of veins under Anna’s pale flesh. Cat’s fangs began to burn. “What else do you see?” Cat would have Anna describe every cobble in the wall to keep her mind off impending hunger.
“Shh, shh, shh. The eagle’s telling me…” Anna’s voice was a whisper.
“What does he say?”
Anna shook her head insistently. “She…she says nature is in harmony with us. Her friend will be here soon. She says we shouldn’t be afraid.”
Unless her friend packs O negative, she needs to be afraid. “How long is ‘soon’?” Cat bit her bottom lip.
Anna closed her eyes and absorbed the moonlight. “Before light.”
* * * *
Adam felt the distress call immediately upon shifting. It was far less difficult than he’d anticipated, for it seemed the entire east coast of Ireland was alive with news of anguished female energy. The whales and eagles were especially disturbed. Adam reached out to them mentally and trembled at their replies. At least they are alive. He held on to that shred of hope.
His animal contacts were doing their best to triangulate the physical source of the
tribulation. He hovered over the estuary, and heard eagle song. Find the singing eagle.
His great form swerved away from the coast into the realm of the sea creatures. Great ombré wings beat to a high speed then folded tightly to his body. He dove deeply into the icy Irish Sea.
* * * *
Nessa caught the current and blessed the Creator for providing a strong tail wind to help propel her to the abandoned feminine souls. As her great golden wings powered her toward their lamentations, she felt the yin and yang of mortal and immortal souls trapped together. What is the cataclysm that the green man speaks of? “I beseech the Creator to guide our flight and deliver them to safety.” Nessa quieted her mind and soared in anticipation.
“Where are you?” She heard the male energy strong and clear in her mind.
She peered down to gauge her location. Flying over Belfast, the desperate energy hit her like a tsunami, almost repelling her back over the water. She banked in flight and answered the call.
“Where are you?”
The tone of the answer was elated. “I’m in the Sea, not far from Skerries Island.”
Nessa knew the voice, but it seemed a dim memory, one she could not readily place. The urgency of the situation overrode her curiosity. “I’m not far,” she replied, and sent him an aerial picture of Skerries Island. “I’ll meet you on the beach.”