Captive (Demonic Games Book 3)

by Sara Clancy

  “You collect buttons?” one of the officers asked with suspicion.

  “That doesn’t change anything,” the imposter snapped. “He committed a crime.”

  “Ya haven’t proved that,” Abe corrected before shrugging. “Look, all I’m saying is that arresting him now is gonna cause you guys a lot of headaches. There’s just one holding cell at the station, right? Take a look at Mihail. All prim and proper. He has a damn manicure. Just take a moment to imagine him in lockup with the town drunks.”

  Mihail bit his lips to stifle any attempt to defend his pride.

  “And he’s a whiner. Ya wouldn’t believe how much he whines. Ya really want to listen to that all night while filling out the paperwork?”

  The officers exchanged a glance. Whatever passed between them was sufficient to have them gather in closer, both whispering in Romanian. Things ran differently in the valley. Forgotten by the rest of the world, the small cluster of villages had had a long bloody history that had shaped it into an opportunistic culture; one that preferred to deal with things privately using their own methods. Abe understood this more than Mihail ever could. And, apparently, more than the stranger as well.

  “What are you suggesting?” one of the officers asked at last, ignoring the imposter’s protests.

  “He’ll stay with me and my parents. You’ll know exactly where to find him when ya need him.”

  “Unless he runs," the imposter hissed.

  “Why would he? He’s got to stay to clear his name and protect his beloved grandmother.” With a smirk, he added. “If ya heard about my trouble, ya know whose generosity helped to resolve the issue. Once this issue’s resolved, I’m sure you’ll both find Mihail in a mighty generous mood.”

  “You’re attempting to bribe them?” The imposter’s calm shattered and his voice turned shrill.

  The police officers exchanged one more look before one of them answered.

  “Keep him off the property and on yours. We’ll be around to interview him once we finish up here.”

  “Yes, sir.” Abe nodded.

  “He’s your responsibility. You make a fool of us and we’ll make you pay for it.”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way, officer,” Abe smiled before he roughly grabbed Mihail's arm.

  "I can't leave Bunica here,” Mihail protested.

  He tried to dig in his heels and hold his ground, but it was no use. All of his protests couldn’t so much as break Abe’s stride. With sharp tugs, Abe forced Mihail to keep pace alongside him. It wasn’t until the cobblestones gave way to the wood of the drawbridge, and they were out of the officer’s earshot that Abe hissed.

  “Just keep walking and don't look back.”

  “Are you insane? We can't leave her!”

  Mihail started to turn. Instantly, Abe’s firm hold tightened until Mihail was sure his bones would shatter. One solid tug had Mihail crash against his side.

  “We stay, we die,” he hissed through his teeth. “Get in the damn truck.”

  The idea of a demon rattled his soul. Sent tendrils of fear squirming through his ribs and down into the depths of his stomach. It took everything he had not to turn around right then.

  “Bunica.”

  “Ya can’t help her if you’re dead,” Abe warned.

  He yanked open the passenger door and tossed Mihail inside. Scrambling over the torn material of the seats, Mihail got his legs out of the way just as Abe slammed the door closed. Barely a second passed before Abe was sliding behind the steering wheel.

  “Call ya bank,” he instructed instantly. “Do whatever ya need to do to move ya money somewhere this guy can't reach.”

  “You think all of this is for my money? What would a demon do with it anyway?”

  Still, he pulled his phone out and started to scroll through his contacts.

  “Your cash is the only thing keeping ya out of a cell,” Abe growled. “Plus, your identity has just been stolen.”

  By a demon, Mihail thought, completely bewildered. Making the phone calls served as a distraction, but it was still almost impossible to keep himself from glancing behind. At his grandmother, his home, and the new evil that was now taking its claim on both.

  Chapter 6

  Warmth radiated from the crackling fire, washing over Mihail's skin in a comforting caress. The Claymonts gathered their firewood from the wild forest that surrounded their isolated farmhouse. Black locust for unrelenting heat and silver fir to make the smoke a little sweeter. It was a combination that never failed to fight the chill out of their home. The Claymont farmhouse was the only place Mihail ever felt warm anymore.

  When they had arrived, Abe had lit the fire and set Mihail down before the hearth. The blanket now across his shoulders had long since been worn thin with time and use. He clutched his chipped mug with both hands. It was a local blend, a now familiar mix of spices and fruit, and he took deep breaths of the steam.

  In the small space, Mihail could keep track of Abe by sound alone. He moved about the rooms, doing odd things Mihail didn't feel inclined to ask about, but always returned to look out of the living room window. On his next trip back, Mihail pulled himself enough out of his daze to look over at his friend. Abe had showered, changed, and overall looked far more collected than seemed appropriate, given the current situation.

  The only sign of his fatigue was the way that he slumped against the wall, resting his weight on one shoulder as he looked out on the snow-drenched meadows that surrounded the building. Mihail didn't know how much time had passed, but the sun was still high enough to glisten off the icicles that dangled from every surface.

  This place can be staggeringly beautiful, Mihail thought. It was easy to forget that while at the castle, captured within the ever-present gloom and torments.

  “Do you have any idea what just happened?” Mihail asked.

  “I’m working on it.” Abe’s voice softened, until it was barely more than a grunt as he added, “Just like I said a dozen times already.”

  “I don’t remember asking,” Mihail’s brow furrowed. “Have I been talking?”

  “Just the same question on repeat,” Abe shrugged as he gulped his tea.

  The oversized mug still looked tiny in his hand. Mihail rolled his eyes when he saw the decoration on the side; a small ghost hovering above the inscription ‘I boo what I want’. Abe and his parents had filled their house with tacky inside jokes.

  “Sorry, I’m a little stressed,” Mihail said.

  “Yeah, you’re not the only one.”

  Mihail wasn't sure if the comment was just a statement of fact or an intentional jab. Either way, it made guilt churn in his gut. Abe kept a watchful eye out the window, barely glancing towards Mihail as he shifted around to face him.

  “I’m sorry I pulled you into this. Again.”

  “Hey, what’s a little murder and mayhem amongst friends?”

  While Abe put more warmth into his voice, he still barely spared him a glance. It put Mihail on edge. With anyone else, it wouldn't have bothered him. But Abe was different. His distraction was never idle. Over the course of their friendship, Abe had gotten a pretty clear idea of how much was too much for Mihail to process at once. So, while he never lied, he did control the flow of information. Only letting Mihail know the worst of things when the time was right. While Mihail knew the habit was best for everyone, it didn’t stop him from worrying.

  “Do you think Bunica’s okay?” he asked at last. “I can’t believe I left her. I’m a horrible human being.”

  “No, you’re not. And I’m sure that she’s fine.”

  “How?”

  “Huh?” Brow furrowing, Abe turned away from the window.

  “How can you be so sure she’s okay?” Mihail asked him again.

  “Because she’s got her fingerprints on everything that happens in that castle. I doubt this is any different.”

  “You think she knows what’s going on? Who that man is?”

  “Wouldn’t shock me,” Abe
said as he turned back to the window. Idly, he sipped from his mug as if the conversation was over.

  “She wouldn’t just reject me like that,” Mihail said. “They have to be forcing her. Or tricking her. Something.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Are you listening to me?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Abe said distractedly.

  The rumble of an engine made Mihail flinch. He surged to his feet, his hot tea sloshing over the rim of his mug and scorching his fingers. The flash of panic simmered down slightly as he noticed Abe’s response. Huffing a sigh, he dropped his mug on the top of the nearest table and headed for the door.

  “Finally,” he muttered.

  Mihail watched him go a second before following. “Who is it?”

  “Just a friend. Sit, have ya tea, I’ll be back in a second.”

  Without thought, Mihail's pace started to slow. That was until he noticed the snowmobile emerge from the forest further down the hill. The familiar colors of it made his chest tighten.

  “The police are here,” Mihail said as he hurried to catch up with Abe. “I haven’t thought of a thing to say to them. What am I supposed to do?”

  Abe shrugged into his coat. “Ya gonna have to breathe."

  “That’s your only advice?” Mihail said as he grabbed his own coat. “I know, I know, it’s not your responsibility to give me those answers. I’m an adult, I can handle it, but I’m going to freak out first.”

  A blistering cold wind swept through the house as Abe opened the door. Tendrils of snow curled around their legs, and Mihail pulled the coat tighter.

  “Mihail, it’s fine,” Abe dumped a large hand on top of Mihail's head and wobbled him slightly. “It’s Radu. I called him.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because, as a police officer, he’ll be able to find out what your new-found twin has been saying.”

  “Oh.”

  “Seemed like something we might want in on,” Abe shrugged.

  “Right. Good thinking.”

  An amused grin crossed Abe’s face. “Thanks, kid.”

  The snow hadn't stopped falling. It had created deep mounds that swallowed Mihail's legs up to his knees and reduced his stride to a hobble. Abe was barely bothered by it. His long legs let him pull ahead and wave down the approaching snowmobile.

  It carved a swift path up the mountainside and was beside Abe in moments. The first time Mihail had seen Radu, he had barely been paying attention. After all, Abe had been in the process of beating the life out of someone at the time. The second hadn't been much better. Barely more than a passing glance at the police station. Seeing him now, Mihail couldn't understand how it had been possible to miss him. A six-foot bodybuilder should have been memorable.

  Turning off the engine, Radu pulled off his helmet and offered Abe a warm grin. Just like Abe, Radu had no problem navigating the snow as he crossed the last distance to Abe. The two men shared one of those greetings that Mihail never understood. The one where they shake hands but also sort of hug. Why don’t they just pick one or the other? he wondered. Giving up on slogging his way through the snow, he held his ground and waited for them to come to him. Radu slung an arm roughly over Abe's shoulders, knocking him off balance as they walked. Watching them, Mihail realized why they had connected so quickly, regardless of first impressions. They were physical equals. Able to interact without having to monitor their strength constantly. And they took full advantage of it, roughly shoving and thumping at each other like overgrown puppies. The sight left Mihail feeling tiny, weak, and utterly vulnerable. Squaring his shoulders, he lifted his chin and forced a polite smile; mentally praying that the giants noticed him before they collided. It was a relief when they paused.

  “Hello, Radu,” Mihail said. He offered a hand. “It’s very nice to meet you officially.”

  Radu’s eyebrows crept up his forehead as he stared at Mihail’s outstretched hand. What if he doesn't speak English? The thought flittered across his mind an instant before Radu took up the offer. His hand engulfed Mihail's, leaving a few of his fingers wrapping around Mihail's forearm.

  “You have to be Mihail.”

  “Oh, good, you speak English. That’s going to make this a lot easier. Wait, what do you mean ‘have’ to be?” He looked to Abe. “Do you talk about me?”

  “I’d call it venting,” Radu’s smile turned to a loud chuckle. “Wow, Abraham wasn’t kidding. It’s ridiculously easy to get a reaction out of you.”

  Radu flashed a disarming smile. Broad and warm, his white teeth made all the brighter by the tan of his skin.

  Mihail shifted his gaze between them. “Why do you talk about me?”

  “You’re kind of odd,” Radu said.

  How, in a group including a medium and a cop that makes friends with the people he arrests, am I the weird one? Mihail screamed in his head but had enough sense to keep his mouth shut. They hadn't established how much Radu knew about Abe's skills.

  “Does he often tune out like that?” Radu asked.

  Mihail blinked and looked up at Abe.

  “Yeah,” his friend shrugged. “Ya get used to it.”

  Abe smacked the back of his hand against Radu’s shoulder. “Come inside. I’ll get you something hot to drink.”

  “Call me suspicious,” Radu said as they started back towards the house. “But could your invitation have anything to do with the complaints made against pretty boy over there?”

  “Maybe,” Abe admitted.

  “I’m starting to feel used.”

  Abe grinned and heavily thumped a hand against Radu’s back. “You’ll get used to it.”

  Abe went straight to the kitchen after shaking off his jacket. Radu and Mihail followed, both taking a seat at the thin kitchen table. The rickety chair groaned under Radu's weight, promising to collapse at any moment. The man didn’t pay it any mind as he leaned back, dropping his arms over the backs of the chairs on either side of him.

  Abe didn't turn as he kept brewing the drink. “So, what have ya heard?”

  “That was real subtle, man,” Radu grinned tauntingly. “Smooth.”

  Abe snorted, “What do ya want from me? It’s been a long day.”

  He dumped the mug of tea in front of Radu before flipping a seat around to straddle it. Mihail had no idea how any of the Claymont furniture remained intact.

  Radu tilted his head and tapped one finger against the handle of his mug, “Yeah? What happened?”

  Abe snorted. “Cop voice? When have I ever fallen for that?”

  “A few times, actually,” Radu mumbled before taking a sip.

  The comment didn't sit well with Abe, but he wasn't about to pursue it.

  Radu's gray eyes narrowed as he studied each of them in turn. It made Mihail squirm. Be calm. Sit still, he commanded himself. He can’t learn anything about grandpa just by looking at you. Casually, Radu took another sip and tapped his thumb against its side.

  “So, I’m sensing that this has something to do with ghosts.”

  Abe turned to stone. His beard hid most of the shock that crossed his face but it still burned in his widening eyes.

  His attempt to sound normal failed miserably, “Why would ya say something like that?”

  Radu laughed and rubbed a hand through his dark, shoulder-length hair, shaking out the stray snowflakes.

  “Well, part of the reason is that Father Petran keeps talking about them,” Radu said.

  Mihail straightened. “He does?”

  “Honestly, he just mentioned it once and then started packing.”

  Mihail and Abe exchanged a glance.

  “Father Petran’s leaving town?” Abe asked, still trying to sound nonchalant.

  “Right after he met you boys,” Radu said before looking around. “Do you have anything to eat?”

  Caught off guard by the question, Abe stumbled to his feet and began ransacking the cupboard. Mihail didn't know what to say. And it didn’t take long for Radu to take advantage of their stun
ned silence to press for more information.

  “So, what’s it like to see dead people all the time?”

  Mihail expected Abe to protest, or stall. He wasn’t ready for his friend to lick his lips and mumble, “Who told ya?”

  “I figured it out myself.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mihail cut in. “How? Because it doesn’t seem like a ‘medium’ should be one of the options a police officer considers.”

  Instead of being insulted, Radu looked amused. “Well, a big hint was the Museum of the Paranormal literally attached to this house.”

  “Well, yes,” Mihail admitted.

  “Also, there's Abe's habit of talking to thin air while never showing any other sign of mental illness."

  “I thought I was bein’ subtle,” Abe nipped the tip of his tongue between his sharpened fangs and dumped a bag of corn chips onto the table.

  Radu instantly reached for them. “Oddly enough, my employers like me to be observant. Which is how I noticed that you always know stuff you shouldn’t. And lately, every time I get a bizarre call on the job, I arrive to be told to go home. When asked why, the only response I ever get is that they’ll ‘just call the Claymonts’.”

  “And that was all you needed to figure it out? That was enough for you to jump to ‘ghosts’?” Mihail asked in disbelief.

  Radu ate another handful of chips, still smiling. “I was born and raised in the valley. We’re a superstitious people. Ghosts are always an option.”

  Abe grunted and retook his seat.

  “Hey, man, if it upsets you this much, I can pretend that I still don’t know.”

  Abe finally released his vicious fangs’ grip on his tongue and huffed a laugh. “Whatever.”

  “Well, that’s passive-aggressive.” Radu stated.

  “I just don’t want ya getting all weird on me now that ya know.”

  Mihail leaned forward slightly. “How long have you known, exactly?”

  “Well, I wasn’t paying attention at first, so it took me a while,” Radu admitted sheepishly. “About five months."

  “Are you kidding me?” Mihail stammered.

  “You knew this whole time?” Abe asked.

  Radu glanced at them before purposefully biting into a chip. Mihail didn’t know if he should be impressed or annoyed. And it seemed like Abe was struggling with the same dilemma.