by C. J. Cross
Why the hell did Jake have to make everything personal?
Even after all these years, he’d learned nothing. If he hadn’t been adamant about being the one to take down his mentor, Jake wouldn’t be strapped to a bed right now, going out of his mind with worry for his partner.
Dana could hold her own; she’d proven that. But Cramer wasn’t an ordinary adversary. He had military training and government clearance. That made him nearly unstoppable. Whatever happened now was on Jake. This was why he worked alone. He didn’t want to be responsible for someone else’s life. Not when he’d proved he couldn’t come through when it mattered.
First Ramirez and now Dana …
Jake struggled against the harsh reality that no matter what he did, he’d never clear his conscience. If Cramer got to Dana, there would be no redemption for him. He’d finally have to admit it; he wasn’t worthy of all the things he wanted. Redemption. Forgiveness. Love.
Love … The idea made Jake want to laugh.
Who would ever be so foolish to crave something so fragile in a world as sinister as this one? Especially at a time like this?
Jake was strapped to a mattress, counting down the minutes he had left before his homicidal boss showed up to end his joke of a life. It didn’t get much darker than that. And Jake knew darkness. Hell, he’d played a part in adding more of it to the world. He knew better than to ever hope he could deserve the things he craved.
Maybe his CO had been right in Ghazni. Jake should’ve saved everyone the trouble and just ate his gun after tanking their mission.
Jake’s adrenaline surged, his ego fighting back against his depressing thoughts. He was no coward. And he wasn’t throwing in the towel until there was nothing left to fight for. And for Dana, he would fight until his last breath. Someone should.
Cramer had taken away her family. He’d stolen years of unconditional love only parents could give. No matter what happened here, Jake couldn’t give her that back. But he could at least fight hard enough to show her she wasn’t alone in their final hours.
Slowing his inhale, Jake concentrated on deep breathing, forcing oxygen into his bloodstream to overcome the poison’s grip. He didn’t know what he’d been drugged with or how long it would last, but he could already feel his outer extremities beginning to tingle back to life. With any luck, it was nightshade and Jake could beat the half-life of the sedative so he’d be ready to strike when Cramer arrived. It was a long shot, but Jake was out of options.
47
Fighting the dark places in his mind was almost as difficult for Jake as fighting the poison pulsing through his veins. He’d been in and out of consciousness. There was no clock in the room, and his watch had been removed, but he marked the passage of time by the sunlight filtering in through the drawn curtains. The fact that there was none now told Jake that he’d been out for a while.
Wondering what had woken him, he tested his restraints again. They still held strong, but he could feel his muscles tingling back to life.
Hope surged through him, taking solid shape as the door to his room creaked open. Cramer slipped inside, carrying a lifeless looking woman in his arms. Dana! Jake held his breath as he watched Cramer gently place her on the empty twin bed. Her motionless form didn’t require restraints, but Jake was reassured by the steady rise and fall of her chest. His relief was short-lived. Cramer turned on the lamp and pulled a vial and syringe from his pocket. He placed both on the nightstand between the beds before sitting down next to Dana.
The springs on the bed groaned in protest under the big man’s weight, but there was no other noise in the room. Dana didn’t recoil or moan as Cramer brushed a gloved hand over her forehead. The gesture was intimate, almost loving. It made Jake’s stomach knot. He wanted to slug the guy for putting Dana through even one more moment of torment. The woman’s entire life had been dedicated to studying nightmares thanks to him. She didn’t need more.
As much as Jake’s lungs ached to scream, keep your hands off her, he kept his mouth shut, not wanting to blow his cover. If he was going to have any chance of playing the hero today, he was going to have to wait until the last possible moment, giving his muscles as much time as possible to recover before he made his move.
“There, there,” Cramer crooned as he arranged Dana neatly on the bed, folding her hands over her chest. “You rest now. It’s almost time.”
Jake willed himself to remain still while Cramer reached for the syringe, filling it from the vial. He held it up to the yellow lamp light and flicked the air bubbles to the top before expertly increasing the pressure on the plunger just enough to push out the air and not any of the precious drug. Cramer grabbed Dana’s slender arm, pushing her sleeve up so he could find a vein. He frowned, quickly putting the needle down on the nightstand next to the vial of poison. Jake’s eyes strained to read the label that was now facing him. Ketamine.
Christ! Had Cramer dosed them with Special K?
No wonder Jake felt like a Humvee had run over his mind.
The military had been using ketamine on the front line for ages. Its fast-acting pain killing properties were perfect for battlefield patch jobs. But Jake had seen just what the drug could do in the hands of an expert. His special forces unit used ketamine in interrogations. It was highly effective thanks to its paralytic and hallucinogenic side effects. With the right amount of sleep deprivation and hypnotic suggestions, the drug became a truth serum, making the target putty in an interrogator’s hands.
But ketamine was a class three controlled substance. It would definitely show up on a tox screen. This wasn’t the drug used on the other victims. If Cramer had switched from nightshade to Special K, it meant he was straying from his normal MO. And that was never a good thing.
Serial Killers were creatures of habit. They only departed from their usual patterns under the most extreme of circumstances, which made them unpredictable, and even more dangerous.
Cramer using ketamine was a bad sign. So was the fact that he’d just removed his gloves. It meant he was no longer afraid of getting caught. An FBI agent with nothing to lose? Jake didn’t like his odds, but he reminded himself to hold fast. He’d beat worse foes before, maybe he could do it again.
Jake fixed his eyes on Cramer, not at all liking the worry on the seasoned agent’s face. He took off his jacket, removing his weapon and placing it on the nightstand next to the drugs. He climbed back on the bed, this time straddling Dana.
Jake’s mind snapped to the worst-case scenario. There was no way he was going to lie there and watch his partner get treated like a date rape victim. Tensing his muscles, Jake balled his hands into fists. He was about to make his move and blow his cover when he realized he’d been wrong about Cramer’s motives.
The man wasn’t about to assault her, he was trying to save her.
Cramer’s ruddy complexion reddened as he applied chest compressions. Winded from the exertion, he paused just long enough to tilt Dana’s head back and press his lips to hers, breathing for her, before going back to chest compressions. Jake’s own chest felt like it was caving in as he helplessly watched. Had the dumb bastard overdosed her?
Jake could no longer remain idle. If Cramer was carrying around a drug as volatile as ketamine, there was also a chance he was carrying the antidote. “Cramer!”
The agent’s face whirled in Jake’s direction, his gaze wide, almost like he’d forgotten Jake was still in the room. “What did you give her?”
He ignored Jake and went back to CPR. After two more rounds of compressions, he sat back on his heels, winded, but satisfied. Dana’s chest rose and fell on its own again. Climbing off her, Cramer went for the syringe again.
“Are you crazy?” Jake snapped. “You’ll kill her.”
Cramer’s dull eyes met Jake’s. “That’s the plan.”
“Why? What the hell did she do to you? Hasn’t she already been through enough?”
Cramer’s face fell. “Shepard, this isn’t a punishment. It’s an honor, a
privilege, a reprieve.”
“It’s not one she would choose.”
“You know her that well?”
“I know if she wanted to die, she would’ve made that choice a long time ago, thanks to you.”
“You think you figured it out, but you have no idea.”
“Then why don’t you fill me in?”
“It’s too late.” Cramer gripped the syringe and turned back to face the bed.
“No! Take me. If you need to take a life, take mine.”
Cramer grinned. “I knew I’d made the right choice pairing you with her. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist falling for her. You’re so much alike. Two wounded souls convinced you’re better off on your own. The perfect pair of star-crossed lovers.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Cramer tsked. “Always the hero. ‘Spare her, take me.’ Too bad you didn’t make the sacrifice in Ghazni. Then maybe Ramirez would still be here, and you never would’ve had your little fall from grace that landed you in my lap.”
“Just tell me what you want, Cramer. We can work together to make this go away.”
“There’s no way out now.”
“Yes there is. That’s the job. Investigate every possible option. You taught me that. You still have options. Just leave her out of this, and I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
“Well I’m glad you feel that way.” He turned back toward Dana.
“Cramer! Don’t do this!”
Throwing Jake one last look, Cramer grinned. “Don’t worry. You’ll both be together in the end.”
This was the moment. Jake had drawn out the sands in the hourglass to the very last grain. He had to act now, or it would be too late. Unleashing his anger, his muscles coiled, responding at last. His hands curled around his restraints and heaved.
48
Dana’s eyes slit open, her vision dancing with a nightmare as Cramer leaned over her, syringe in hand. She tried to scream, but the sound lodged inside her dry throat, strangled by fear. He smiled at her as he leaned closer, whispering words her mind was too sluggish to understand.
Her head throbbed as her vision toggled between the needle and Cramer’s kind expression. The juxtaposition was too much for her drugged state of mind. She blinked fast and hard, trying to make sense of her surroundings, but the next thing that came into view only made her eyes widen further.
A shadow moved behind Cramer.
She realized it was Jake a moment too late, her shocked expression alerting Cramer to the attack. Cramer turned, slamming into Jake with surprising force. Jake staggered back, and that’s when Dana saw the syringe. The one that had been meant for her was now sunk deep into Jake’s abdomen, the fight slowly draining out of his bright blue eyes, taking Dana’s hope with it.
Tears blurred Dana’s view of the final killing floor. She’d made herself turn away when Cramer roughly strapped Jake back to the bed. She didn’t want that to be her last memory of him. But she couldn’t turn away from the current horror Cramer was searing into her mind.
He stooped low between the beds, painting the floor with painstaking care. The blood he used came from a donor bag, which explained how he’d kept the crime scenes so clean, and why she and Jake had never been able to ID the blood used to make the pentagrams. The one Cramer currently worked on was nearly complete. He worked clockwise starting with the left point and working his way to filling in the bottom point last. “Point thee toward hell and He will justify the unjustifiable.”
The lump in Dana’s throat grew tighter. Cramer was quoting the Pentanic Verses. It was surely a sign of madness if he believed what he’d been doing—what he was about to do—was justifiable. The last shred of hope she’d been clinging to unraveled like a thread being yanked free.
Thanks to whatever Cramer had in the syringe, Jake remained incapacitated. Dana glanced over at him repeatedly to make sure he was still breathing; a ridiculous worry under the circumstances.
Barring a miracle, they’d both be beyond breathing soon enough. But that didn’t mean Dana was giving up. It just wasn’t in her nature. She’d learned that when she faced Cramer at the café.
She’d always thought solving her parents’ murder would give her closure and bring an end to her tireless quest for justice. Sitting across from her parents’ killer, Dana had expected to feel peace and exhaustion. Instead, staring into the crazed mind of Thomas Cramer had somehow renewed her will to live.
She refused to give in and let him win. Her love for her parents was stronger than his hate and delusion, and she planned to prove it. If she could stall him long enough to free herself from her restraints, she’d do whatever it took to make sure Cramer was the only one who didn’t walk out of this hotel of horrors alive.
Dana wet her lips and began her work. “If I’m going to die, I need to know the truth.”
Cramer looked up at her, his gaze curious.
“Why did you pick my parents?”
“They were blessed.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Because you are but a ghost in this realm. But I can fix that.” He murmured, going back to painting his masterpiece on the floor while he quietly spoke to himself. “Be still, ghost. Table thy unfinished business, for I am in the business of ushering all things to an end.”
He was quoting scripture again. At least it was scripture to him. Cramer had somehow gotten dragged under by the current of the Pentacle Church and unless Dana could find a way to pull him out, she’d never get the truth about her parents.
It was getting late. She didn’t have any idea of the time, but she knew hours had passed since she’d been with Cramer in the café. If she could keep him talking a little longer, she was sure the drugs would wear off enough for her to work her hands free. Thinking she wasn’t a threat, Cramer only tied her wrists. While she’d been talking, and he’d been busy perfecting his bloody pentagram, she’d been working the knot. They were almost loose enough to slip. She just needed a little longer.
“How long have you been with them?” she asked. “The Pentacle Church.”
Cramer nodded while he worked. “A long time.”
“Is your brother with the church, too?”
Cramer’s gaze flicked up to meet hers, his lips twitching into a frown. “He was.”
“Was?”
“The world is a place proven real by dying in it.”
Dana’s heart thundered in her eardrums. Was Cramer’s brother dead? Is that what Jake had found out on his trip? If so, it was the exact type of trigger he’d warned her could cause a psychotic break like this. Dana racked her brain for his name. Finding it, she clutched it like a life raft. “Rycroft wouldn’t want you to do this.”
Cramer shook his head, his dry lips stretching into a grin so wide Dana feared they’d crack. “Rycroft taught me how to free the demons inside us. He taught me how to be reborn.”
Tears filled Dana’s eyes. “Did he teach my parents that too?”
Cramer’s grin spread wider as he nodded. “He chose to help them, to free their madness. Theirs were the first souls I freed. And now I will free you.”
Dana’s tears flowed freely now. This man was insane. There was no reasoning with him and no way to decipher the truth from his rantings. She would never know if her parents’ death had been random or if they too had been somehow tied up in this cult. Her heart wouldn’t let her believe the latter. That would destroy her life’s purpose.
She’d spent her life studying the occult, thinking it would give her answers, but what if all it did was lead her down the same path her parents had taken? A path with no answers. A path of death that only led to more death.
As Dana lay there, struggling to free herself, she sank into the dark corners of her mind, finally asking the questions she normally kept at bay. If this was how it ended, had her life been wasted? Would her parents be disappointed in her? Did her obsession with finding the truth lead her to the same demise? And did that make it a
ll for nothing?
All at once, Dana felt the effects of the drugs subsiding. Her gaze darted from Cramer to the nightstand. The drugs, syringe and his handgun were still there. Glancing back at Cramer, she contemplated her half-baked plan. It was risky considering her track record with firearms, but she refused to go down without a fight.
When she glanced back at the gun, a twitch of movement in her peripheral caught her attention. She held her breath as she watched Jake, waiting for another sign of life. This time his twitch was accompanied with a wink.
Dana’s heart nearly burst when she saw his stormy blue eyes flash open. He gave a brief nod to the gun on the dresser, but Dana had already made up her mind. They all stood a better chance if she went for the poison. Knowing Jake was at least coherent enough to get the hell out of there if her plan worked gave Dana all the courage she needed to make her move.
With one massive surge of adrenaline, she slipped her wrists free and lunged for the nightstand. The syringe was already in her hand by the time Cramer realized what was happening, but he moved with the speed of a man possessed.
Dana didn’t let him intimidate her.
She stood her ground, ready to jam the drug into his neck. She knew she’d only get one shot at this. But Cramer came at her too fast.
When he was close enough for her to strike, he struck first. His fist connected with her jaw so hard she saw stars. To her credit, she never let go of the needle. She swung it wildly, trying to get it into his system anyway possible as his arms tried to restrain her.
In the struggle, she caught Jake out of the corner of her eye, trying to break free of his restraints, but his straps held fast. Dana’s brief distraction proved dire. Her momentary glance at Jake had given Cramer the time he needed to intercept her move. His hand shot out, blocking the arc of her arm as she aimed the syringe at the powerful meat of his thigh. She’d probably telegraphed her path, but either way, Cramer was ready for her. His fist blocked the blow, the tip of the needle bending against his knuckle before breaking and dropping uselessly to the floor.