“You have pretty good instincts about people,” Misty said. “What does your gut tell you?”
“That he’s not a bad guy.” Karen sat up, turning her gaze to the darkness looming outside. “But here’s the wrinkle. Randall says Bradford is dangerous.” She padded to the balcony doors. “And there’s this huge bird that keeps flying around the mansion.”
“You just lost me with the bird. How is that relevant to two guys?”
“Because I think it’s back. I just heard something outside my window. I’ll call you later.” Karen snapped the phone shut and opened the door a crack, looking along the platform encircling the house. Nothing.
She stepped out, heading straight for the rail and leaned over. Again, nothing. She leaned against the support beam. “I know I heard something out here,” she murmured.
“Are you looking for me?” a gravelly voice said, sounding right next to her.
Karen shrieked as she jumped, feeling her heart trying to pound its way through her chest. She stared into the large tree growing next to the house. Its thick branches hung over the low roof. The voice came from there.
She backed toward the door to her room. “Not unless you’re a huge bird.”
“Be calm,” the voice said. “I mean you no harm. And no, I’m not a bird.”
“Show yourself,” she demanded. Her back hit the wall, stopping her cold.
“To my regret, I can’t. I don’t think you’d understand.”
“Understand what?” She took a deep breath and, trembling, inched her way back to the rail. Calm, she thought. Focus. You’re not defenseless.
“Who I am. What I am.” The tree branch bobbed as she heard him move to another spot.
She peered through the leaves. Something large and shadowy sat back by the trunk and she couldn’t tell exactly it was. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know.” A rumbling laugh floated from the tree top. “I’m a guardian, a night angel if you will. I protect those who can’t protect themselves.”
“What are you doing here?” Karen craned her neck to see toward the top. She hadn’t even heard him move.
“My charges were stolen from me. They are naught but children. I intend to find them and take them home.”
Karen cringed from the determination in his voice. She pitied whoever it was that crossed him. “I’m sorry.”
“So will the person be who took them.” More rustling as the speaker moved again. Karen moved with him, still trying to see.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
Silence. “I don’t think so,” he finally said.
Even with the amount of leaves that had fallen, enough remained to hide whoever was there. And why was she out here talking to someone she couldn’t see anyway? Had she lost her mind? “You know, this is a little much.” I know I’m a superhero, but this is crazy.
“I know this is hard for you. I understand if you don’t believe me. But don’t trust Troyington. He’s not what he seems.”
Karen crossed her arms. “Someone else told me that today. It would be easier to trust you if I could see you.”
“Listen to Randall. He knows what he’s talking about.” The voice came from a different spot again.
She frowned. “You know Randall Dupré?” How did he know who she meant?
The voice chuckled. “Oh yes. Randall and I have been acquainted for years. He offered his assistance to me. He’s gathering information.”
Her blood pounded in her veins as anger ripped through her. Bright light flared behind her eyes, and she felt something inside her straining to be set free. “Do you know what he’s going through for you?” Her hands clenched into fists. “He’s been beaten. He’s been abused. Why don’t you go help him?”
“Calm yourself. I know everything Randall has suffered since he came here three months ago.” The voice now sounded sad. “There is nothing I can do for him in the daylight.”
Karen sagged against the railing and pressed her hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry. I don’t lose my temper like that. Not ever. I keep myself under control all the time. I just can’t stand what I’ve seen of his treatment.”
“But you spend your time with Troyington.”
Karen stared at the tree. Why did it sound like he was disappointed in her? “He likes me. I think he wants me to like him.”
“And yet...” Amusement colored the words of the invisible speaker.
“There’s something about Randall that calls out to me. I just met the man yesterday.” Karen crossed her arms, rubbing them, not sure if it was the chill in the air or her nerves making goose bumps run along her arms. “Bradford is everything a girl is supposed to want. Randall is the one I think about. Is that weird?”
“No. The fairies would say you found your soul mate.”
“I thought soul mates were only in romance novels or movies.” Karen wanted to believe he was making fun of her, but the truth of his words penetrated her soul. She trembled harder. You know you and Randall are soul mates, a little voice whispered to her heart.
“Soul mates are very real. They’ve been around since the beginning of man. Souls are precious things. When two who are destined to be together meet, a powerful bond is formed. The fairy folk have known that for centuries.” The amusement in his voice was back. “Humans can be a little slow on the uptake.”
Karen threw her hands up. “Hold it a second. Did you just say fairies are real?”
“Of course. You’ve known it for years. They’ve been keeping an eye on you. They’re glad you still believe in them. Unfortunately, you told Troyington.”
Karen shook so hard, she felt like a mini earthquake. “Have I endangered them?”
“No. They can take care of themselves. They always have.”
She leaned on the rail, needing to hold herself up. “How do you know all this?”
“Because,” the voice whispered. “I’m one of them.”
Karen’s stomach dropped when large wings beat the air. The speaker took to the sky, and was gone.
Chapter Four
Randall jerked awake as ice cold water splashed over his face and naked chest. He struggled as rough hands yanked him off his bed and threw him to the concrete floor. He wiped the water from his eyes and shoved his hair back. Troyington loomed over him along with Cray and a man wearing a green turtleneck, dark brown pants, and a flat cap over his dark, wavy hair. Randall frowned. If Troyington brought Harmon, the stable master, and Cray, things were about to get ugly.
Troyington dropped the plastic bucket on the hard floor with a dull thud. “Get up, Dupré,” he snapped as Cray and Harmon jerked him to his feet.
Randall spit water on the floor and stood, glaring at Troyington. “What do you want this time?”
Troyington nodded to Cray and the man slammed his fist into Randall’s stomach. “You do not now or ever lay a hand on my employees. Is that understood?”
Randall dropped to the floor, holding his midsection as he gasped for breath. “Why? Can’t they fight their own battles?”
Troyington gestured to Harmon. The stable master hauled Randall to his feet, holding his arms behind him as Cray landed several solid blows to his face. Randall felt his nose break and wondered if he was going to lose teeth this time. Teeth seemed to take forever to regenerate. He pulled against the stable master and got another punch from Cray for his efforts.
Troyington raised his hand. “Bring him.”
Cray and Harmon dragged Randall down a familiar hallway. He winced as his feet scraped against the concrete floor, which meant his toes were going to be raw by the time they got to their destination. At least I’ve got my pants this time, he thought.
Blood dripped from his face, leaving a splotchy trail down the otherwise pristine hallway. He gave a small shake of his head. He should’ve known this was going to happen. Back to the room.
Cray and Harmon threw him into the small concrete room he’d occupied when Troyington had first found out what he was.
His shoulder slammed painfully into the far wall, the rough concrete leaving raw scratches on his skin. The two men grabbed him again, turning him around for their employer’s inspection. Randall flinched when Troyington’s fingers probed his back.
“Amazing,” Troyington said. “Yesterday morning, I had you bleeding. Today, you’re perfectly healed. It’s like you were never touched.” He turned to his men. “Get Dr. Strathmore. Tell her to get me a blood sample while he’s human, one during the transformation, and one when the change is complete.”
“Just what are you looking for?” Randall said, his broken nose making him sound like he was clogged with a cold.
Troyington smiled but his eyes were hard. “I want the power you and those werewolf brats have. As a shape-shifter, I’ll have heightened senses. After determining how much of your blood I need, I’ll have regeneration. All of which I’ll be able to use against my business rivals.”
“It’s enhanced senses,” Randall said, condescension dripping from his words. “Not telepathy.”
Troyington shook his head. “You just don’t understand. Being able to hear rapid heartbeats, see small facial changes, smell fear, that’s what will give me the edge.”
Randall’s eyes widened as the full impact of Troyington’s words hit him. With the power of a shape-shifter, the enhanced senses would actually make his business sense sharper. It would complement him better than psionics. He’d acquire more and more power, until there was no one left to challenge him. Great, Randall thought. Another nut job with a take-over-the-world scheme.
Having seen Troyington’s reaction to Karen every time she was near him, Randall threw another barb at the rich man. “What do you think Ms. Spraiker will say about this? Do you think she’ll just stand by and watch you grab all that power?”
Randall knew his statement hit home and smiled as Troyington’s face turned bright red, his face pulling down into a dark scowl. He’d take a small victory over no victory any day.
Troyington crossed over to him, slapping him hard across the face, sending new waves of pain through Randall’s nose. “What do you think she’ll say when she finds out you’re not even human? Why not show her the monster you are in the dark?”
Randall scowled as fresh blood dripped from his face. When would he learn to keep his mouth shut? Apparently not now. “And yet, you want to be one of us.”
“Yes, I do.” Troyington kicked Randall’s right knee out from under him, making him cry out as white hot pain lanced through his leg. He raised watering eyes to his captor. Troyington stood over Randall, his voice low and menacing. “And if I have to go through all of you guardians and every werewolf brat in North America to get that ability, rest assured, I will.”
Cray and Harmon stood over Randall as Troyington headed toward the hall. He looked at the two men. “I have to be upstairs for breakfast. Take him to the barn and make sure this time, he doesn’t get away from you. Give me ten minutes before you leave.”
After Troyington stalked from the room, the two men checked their watches several times before nodding and grabbing him again. They quickly hauled him outside and down the hill that obscured the barn from the view from the house. They shoved him in the small storage room at the end of the stalls where horses whinnied, letting the men know they didn’t appreciate the interruption.
They left him there, slamming the door shut. Randall limped across the room, staring at the door that stood between him and freedom. It had been lined with a thin layer of a dull metal, and the wood on all the walls had been treated the same way. He touched his finger to the surface, jerking his hand back as if he’d been burned. The skin bubbled on his fingertip. Cold iron. Werewolves had silver, vampires had holy relics, his people had cold iron. None in the fairy realm could withstand being near the metal.
He thought about what the High Mother had told him before he left. Troyington’s men had paranormal abilities, just as he figured. Cray had superhuman strength. Randall was lucky the man was more of a coward that enjoyed bullying than an actual fighter. Harmon could speak to any animal on earth, which was where Troyington’s men got a lot of their information. The very creatures that lived with the fairies had unknowingly betrayed them. And Troyington could recognize magic and sense when it was being used. He couldn’t wield magic, but he knew when someone else did.
Randall looked around at his small cell. He couldn’t get away from the metal on the walls and the door and just the scent of it was making his stomach turn. He needed to get out of there and warn the kids. He wanted to see Karen. Right now, though, Troyington held all the cards. “Damn him!”
He walked to the middle of the room and sat cross legged on the floor. He swallowed hard to stop the nausea rising in the back of his throat. The metal was dulling his senses and as blood from his nose dripped in his lap, he knew it was also slowing his healing ability.
****
“Good morning, everyone.” Bradford smiled as he entered the dining room. “Eat hearty. Today, we must have a solution to the mystery.”
Karen carried her plate to the table, sitting next to Edna. “Do you think we’ll have it figured out before the others?”
“Of course. We’ve almost got it now.” Edna winked at her. “A few more clues to solidify what we know, and it’s in the bag.”
Karen smiled at Edna as she patted the older woman’s hand. “I’ve enjoyed our partnership. It’s been fun getting to know you.”
“Same here, dear. Are you finished?” At Karen’s nod, Edna stood. “Let’s get down to business.”
Karen followed Edna into the hall. “Should we check the basement today?” she asked. “I know the others have already been down there, but they may have missed something.”
“Sounds like a good place to start.” Edna led the way to the cellar door.
The two women flipped on the light switch and descended the stairs. Karen looked around in amazement. “This doesn’t look like any basement I’ve ever seen.” The hallway and doors were all stark white. Nothing was out of place. The lights were startlingly bright. Everything looked almost sterile in its cleanliness. “It’s more like a hospital.”
“Bradford likes every area in his home to be tidy. Nothing out of place,” Edna said at her elbow. “You start on that side. Holler if you see anything.”
“I will.” Karen opened the first door, finding only a storage closet filled with cleaning supplies. Poking through the items, she discovered one of the “victim’s” cigarettes and a fancy silver button. She pocketed both, heading to the next door a little further down. That room was just a storage closet for holiday decorations. Finding nothing useful in there, she continued on. The third door made her stop.
It was locked tight. Karen pushed on it a little harder, but it wouldn’t budge. She wondered why that one was locked up. She looked down and saw what looked like tiny drops of blood on the floor. They went down the hall to her left.
She glanced around for Edna but didn’t see the older woman. Curiosity getting the better of her, she followed the trail down a long corridor running the length of the mansion. The droplets stopped at a large metal door. She reached out a hand, hesitating only briefly before yanking on the handle. It opened easily, throwing her off balance.
She stepped inside and looked around. The room was completely barren and didn’t have the look of the rest of the basement. Whitewashed cinder block walls held a chill she hadn’t felt anywhere else. The droplets were in here and just stopped. Who was here? she wondered. What happened to them? What was going on in this house?
She took another deep breath, but this time, it didn’t help. She turned to leave, and her eyes widened when she saw the walls. Gouges marred the walls to either side of the door and the dark brown stain covering them could’ve been dried blood.
She went back to the hallway and Edna was there. “Did you find anything?”
Karen shook her head. “No. That room was empty. It looked like there was blood on the floor. Was someone hurt?”
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Edna smiled. “It could’ve been Cray. This room used to be a workshop for Bradford’s father. Cray sometimes uses it when he needs more space.”
“But it’s so cold in there.”
Edna nodded. “I know. Cray only uses it in the summer when the outside temperatures get too high. He may have been in here the other day and cut himself. That’s probably what you saw.”
Karen watched Edna shut the door and make sure it was closed tight. “There are gouges on the walls by the door that look like claw marks and a stain that looks a lot like blood.”
Edna shrugged. “It’s entirely possible. I’m not sure what Cray does down there, and I think it’s best not to ask him. I wouldn’t understand anything he says anyway. He’s all about carpentry and mechanics and things an old lady like me doesn’t know anything about. Let’s get back upstairs. I need to ask Bradford a few things, and you look like you need something to drink.”
Karen got herself a cup of hot tea and sat in a tapestry chair in the hallway. She watched the other guests walk about, make notes in little notebooks, and confer. She sipped her tea. She was feeling better. She’d be a lot better if she could just grab Randall and run. She nodded to two gentlemen who stopped in front of her, silently willing them to move.
She thought about Randall and where he could possibly be. She wanted to try to see him again, and the mystery would be over this afternoon. The events of the previous day came back to her. She’d spoken with him, and he’d touched her cheek. Her eyes closed as she remembered the feel of his hand on her face. His skin was rough, and she’d seen the blisters. But his touch had been feather light, almost like he’d been afraid to touch her.
She worried about the welts on his back. He needed to be seen by a doctor. She felt her power flare again. She didn’t understand what was happening with it, but every time she thought of Randall and his touch, her power reacted. You know why you have strong feelings for him, the little voice inside her whispered again. Just believe it.
Night Angel (Angel Haven) Page 4