Devil Hath Come (an FBI/Romance Thriller ~book 7)

by Kelley, Morgan

  That was his plan.

  Struggling, he remembered the rest. He’d been hit on the head and taken by the killer. He was almost afraid to open his eyes, since he already knew his prospects were grim. He didn't move a muscle, afraid to signal that he was awake.

  Scanning his body, he could feel ropes binding his legs. They weren’t together, and from his sitting position, he could tell he was in a chair. It only took a minute to acclimate himself and realize that his head was facing down. He slowly opened his eyes. His wrists and elbows were bound to the arms of the chair with duct tape. There was a thick layer holding him there. He knew that there was no way he could pull himself free of that.

  He also noticed that there were drops of blood landing on his khaki pants as they rolled down his cheek. There was a breeze on the back of his neck, and something didn't feel right.

  Then it occurred to him that the familiar weight of his ponytail was gone too.

  The bastard had cut off all his hair.

  If he ever got free, he was going to show him what a scalping really and truly was. He thought about his wife, and how she loved running her fingers through it, and then he analyzed the man’s actions. He would have lopped it off with intent. He wanted to scare Elizabeth and make her vulnerable.

  Shit! That just might do it too.

  They were right about him watching them. The asshole had studied them well.

  Wiggling his fingers, he tried to get the circulation to return to his extremities, in case he had the opportunity to fight. Already he could feel the telltale tingle retuning. As he stared down at his ring finger, he noticed his wedding band was gone.

  For some reason, that hurt more than losing all his hair. The man stripped him of the one reminder that he had of his union with his wife.

  That was his lifeline to his heart.

  So began the psychological torture.

  In his head, he began to pray. He wasn’t a religious man, since being raised in the Native community. There was no church or talk of salvation. Yet now, he prayed for it. If not for him, then let it be for his wife, brother and his three children. They needed him and in all honestly, he wanted more time.

  Call it greedy, but this wasn’t how he saw his life ending. There was always the slow quiet death of old age, as his wife and brother stayed by his side. Then, he’d wait for them, so their journey into the afterlife would be together as one.

  Now, fear had him by the balls. It wasn’t looking good at all. Ethan knew that if the man didn't kill him immediately, he only had about twelve to twenty four hours until his death warrant was officially signed.

  It was time to take control of the situation.

  Lifting his head, he noticed the man sitting not far from him, watching him. It pissed him off that they stared into the face of madness and were deceived by his happiness and seeming normalcy. When in truth, he was as crazy as they come.

  “I was wondering if I hit you too hard. I needed you to wake up,” he stated laughing.

  “I guess you have your answer.”

  He didn't move from his chair. “You’re going to tell me how to break her and get her to come to me,” he demanded.

  Ethan’s laughter was filled with entertainment. “Yeah, I wouldn’t bet on that. I’m not betraying my wife to you.”

  He shrugged. “You will.”

  The conversation was ending there. Ethan was well aware that his hell was about to begin, but no matter what he did to him, there’d be no betrayal. He had to believe that no matter what, they would find him.

  Alive, wounded, or dead, his wife would search for him.

  They had just made that vow and it gave him solace. He’d find her no matter where she went, and she would do the same. It may only be his bones when they located him, after being picked clean by vultures and other scavengers, but Elizabeth wouldn’t give up.

  He had to believe it.

  “Nothing huh? Well, then we’ll have to make you talk.”

  Ethan watched as he moved towards him knife in his hand and ready to use it. Taking a deep breath, he tried to push down the fear and slow his heart, like the FBI had taught them. He was going through protocol procedures, praying they would help keep him alive.

  Blackhawk was a captive and he needed to prepare for reality.

  He was a dead man.

  As the killer placed the tip of the knife besides his jugular, he stopped moving all together. Part of him wanted the maniac to end it. The rest wanted him to buy them time.

  The cold steel rested against his flesh, the tip beneath the collar of his shirt. Ethan waited for it, knowing it was either death or pain.

  One was coming, and it was only a matter of which it would be. His fate was being decided by a madman, and he refused to bargain with the devil.

  “Let’s try this one last time, Director Blackhawk. Tell me how to break Elizabeth and get her to come to me. If you assist me, then I’ll end it peacefully for you. You’re of no use to me. My dark Lord doesn’t want you. He wants your wife. Soon, she’ll be my bride on that altar.”

  “Fuck off!” he said, not even entertaining that visual.

  With one quick motion, the knife slid down his body, slicing his shirt open and leaving a trail of bleeding flesh in return.

  Ethan’s body bowed, and he screamed in pain as the searing heat ripped through him. Fighting for air, he stared down at the tip of the knife touching parts of his body that he and Elizabeth enjoyed a great deal.

  “Still nothing?”

  Ethan shook his head and expected more slicing of his flesh. Instead, his face exploded in pain as the man punched him. The chair rocked and crashed to the floor. The pain sung up his body as his head screamed in pain.

  Kneeling in front of him, the killer laughed. “I love your tattoo, Director. I admired it as you and my Elizabeth were leaving the gym not far from your home. Her hands ran all over it, and that made me very jealous. You see, she’s already been picked for Satan. He wants her and you stood in my way.”

  Ethan said nothing.

  “Did you know that the raven is very poetic indeed? It’s the bird of death. It’s ironic that you wear one on your chest when you’re next to die.”

  Ethan wasn’t going to freak out yet. He spit blood from his mouth to the ground. “The raven brings a message and not death,” he corrected him.

  “Oh, and what is it telling me, Director?”

  “That Elizabeth is going to find you, and when she does, she’s going to kick your ass all the way back to your master empty handed. The tattoo on my chest is nothing. I’m not the raven, she is!”

  The man screamed in fury as the knife made another slash across the tattoo. “I will win!” he bellowed in hate and frustration.

  The burn in his chest overwhelmed him. Just as he was getting over that, Ethan’s head was slammed into the ground. The room swam once more, as the smell of blood and the pain pulled him back under.

  Ethan knew as the panic subsided, so would his life. The clock was now ticking, and fate sat in the hands of his wife and brother.

  “This isn’t over, Director. I have plans for you, but first, enjoy your nap.”

  Two hours later

  Once they returned to the room, Callen had placed Elizabeth on the bed and promptly Rex had moved protectively beside her. He didn't know what to do for her, other than promise that they’d get him back. Callen would have done anything at that point to take away the pain that was drowning her. He made the vow and kissed away her tears, all while his own fears rocked his body.

  How did he live without his big brother? He loved the man as his friend, partner, and family. They shared everything from the woman they loved to the children they sired. He was half of his heart, and now he was gone.

  Yet, he couldn’t give up. Ethan was his role model and he’d be fighting for him if the roles were reversed.

  Callen was struggling to keep it together. What he wanted was to lie beside Elizabeth and weep with her. Then and there, he wanted to
mourn for a man he loved as he hid from the inevitable.

  He was now in charge of all of this.

  Her sobs had filled the room and forced him back to the reality of the situation. Someone had to carry on and make the decisions needed to find Ethan.

  Yet, her sorrow was distracting.

  Rarely was she so broken, that she’d weep like this for two hours. It was scary to watch a normally strong person break in pieces before your eyes.

  Callen stared down at the table and the items sitting on it. There was a dead headless bird, a pile of his brother’s hair, the note and his personal effects. They might lead to something that could help them. Right then, he was weighing his options, as Chris came back into the room.

  “She’s not speaking and isn’t responding to anything we say,” he said, placing his hand on Callen’s arm. “How are you holding out?”

  There was no way in hell he was giving up. “I want to kill this bastard for touching my brother, cutting off his hair, and breaking Elizabeth. That’s about the extent of it.” He wasn’t going to mention that he wanted to weep and be terrified.

  He just didn't have that damn luxury at the moment.

  “Are you sure that calling for backup isn’t a good idea?” Chris was glad that he wasn’t the one who had to make that decision. In the work hierarchy, Ethan or Elizabeth would carry this one. Now, it was on Callen, and he was about to learn if he could handle it or crumble under the weight. This was one hell of an initiation into the leadership club.

  “If it were me that he had, my brother would buy me time. If he’s watching us, we’re holed up here until we figure out who is doing this.”

  Callen could hear more sobs from the other room.

  Something had to be done. “Chris, call Christina. If she’s in her hotel room tell her to head up here. Don’t tell her anything over the phone. I don’t want her to freak out and alert anyone. The fewer of us that know, the better chance we have at keeping it under wraps.”

  Chris pulled out his phone and made the call, asking Christina to join them.

  Meanwhile, Callen picked up his brother’s phone and started scrolling through his notes. If he was going to play leader, then he needed to get into the mind of a true one. Flipping through his profile updates, he began reading the last thing that his brother had been working on before he went out to get dinner.

  As his eyes scanned it, it gave him an insight into the man who was taken, and the one who stole him away.

  The killer is highly organized. I’m updating the profile to show that he is of average intelligence. In order to catch him, we’ll need to outthink him, since he believes that he’s smarter than us. The more I see the inconsistencies, the less I believe that they’re random.

  If for some reason, he manages to get his last victim, she will have a little more time. His plan is to enjoy this and he won’t be rushed. He will need to take her someplace quiet and secluded, more so than the last five victims in the killings. He picked them for a reason, but the final place will be where it was all meant to play out. The killer picked that place first, building around it. This was always about getting Elizabeth here. The women, while offerings to Satan, they never really mattered. He needed a distraction to get to her. In his mind, he’s rationalizing it to be about the devil, but I believe it’s more. I think he’s foremost a stalker, and then a killer. He wants what he can’t have and has created this world where ‘the devil’ made him do it.

  I need to advise the team to focus on the locations as a center point. He will stick to his plan because that’s all he really has in all this. The focus is the goal. If we can find the final site, we may be able to trap him in the hole.

  Before it’s too late.

  Callen read his brother’s words over and over and tried to implant them in his mind. After he got Christina working on the items, he was going to start tearing apart the map and the crime scene locations. If Ethan made note of it, then it had to matter.

  At the knock at the door, Cyra peeking out and finally opened it. She wasn’t taking any chances.

  When the woman entered, she looked nervous as hell. She knew that being summoned to the boss’s room that late at night was never going to be a good thing.

  “What did I do?” she asked, sensing the strain in the room. There was sobbing from the other room, and by process of elimination, she knew who was crying.

  Callen took over and didn't sugar coat it. “Ethan was abducted by the killer.”

  Christina gasped and her stomach knotted at the news. She loved her boss. The man had always been good to her, and she considered the Blackhawks part of her family. “Oh shit! What can I do?”

  Callen explained the situation, “We only have until tomorrow night. When he took Ethan, he left us some items. We’re hoping that you can run trace on them.”

  “I can take them right to the lab.”

  He stopped her. “No, you can’t. He specifically stated that if Elizabeth asked for any help, Ethan was dead. If he’s watching us, then we can’t risk it.”

  She understood. “Okay, I have a kit in my room. I can get it and start working on it through the night up here.”

  Callen was grateful. “Anything you can’t run here, I want you take with you to work in the morning. You say absolutely nothing and you run it all untagged. Print it and then burn the rest.”

  Christina would do just that. “Is Elizabeth going to be okay?”

  He wished he had the answer to that. When he thought about it, his mind wandered to Ares and Artemis LaFay. He could only pray that this didn't have the same outcome if he failed. Callen went with honesty. “I don’t know.”

  “Let me go get my things and start,” she said, racing for the door.

  Callen knew that they need everyone on the team. “I’m going to try and get her to snap out of it. I need her on this. I have big enough shoes to fill from Ethan, but she’s a whole other story,” he stated, unsure if he could pull it off alone.

  Entering the room, he closed the door. When he sat beside her on the bed, his heart broke. He’d never seen her like this before.

  Pulling her into his arms, he held her tight. “Shhhh Lyzee, it’s going to be alright. We’re going to find him. Ethan’s coming home, I promise you.”

  She shook in his arms and continued to cry, but now she at least was holding onto him with her face buried in his neck.

  “This is my fault, Cal. I didn't even consider that he’d come after you or Ethan. I was willing to face him, but I never thought…”

  He left kisses on her face. “Angel, you couldn’t have known. He’s a sick bastard and his mind is a maze that we would never figure out.”

  She clung to him, her face damp with tears. “Oh God, how do I go on if he kills Ethan?”

  He didn't have an answer for that. “I don’t know. I’ve asked myself that a few times. I know that I need your help on this. I can’t do this alone, sweetheart. I need you by my side. Ethan needs us.”

  She tried to focus, but the grief was just too much. She loved them both so much, and now half her heart was missing.

  How do you live if you’re incomplete?

  Callen held her and allowed her to cry it all out. Maybe then, he’d be able to pick her brain.

  Suddenly, she pulled from his arms and raced towards the bathroom. Hitting her knees, she slid across the tile floor to begin voiding everything that was in her body. She retched violently, as if trying to purge all the pain and fear.

  He wasn’t far behind her, as he pulled her hair back and knelt beside the woman he loved. He let her get it all out of her body. Callen wanted to admit that he wasn’t far behind her and that the bile was churning in his own gut too.

  When she was done, he stood her up and helped her rinse out her mouth and brush her teeth. The entire time he was replaying everything Ethan had said in his notes. It was looking more and more like Elizabeth couldn’t help him, so he would need to pull this off.

  The alternative was unacceptab
le.

  Before he knew it, she was facing him and had buried her face in his shoulder and her hands in his shirt. It broke his heart that she was holding onto him like a lost and broken child.

  Lifting her up into his arms, he carried her to the bed and sat with her on his lap. There was no more crying, as he suspected she’d used up all her tears. What could he do? Callen continued to offer her comfort as he continued to rock the mother of his children and his mate in life.

  They could do it, he had no doubt. Elizabeth would pull through.

  Callen was unsure how much time had gone by, but when her arm slipped from his shoulder, he knew the cold hard reality. He wasn’t going to be able to use her brain. She’d worn herself out weeping. Callen was on his own for this one, and the team would have to push forward without her.

  Resting her on the mattress, he left a kiss on her hot cheek. “I’ll get him back for you, my love. I swear I will.”

  At the door, Callen paused, finally considering something. He moved back towards the night stand and reached inside. Pulling her gun out, he discharged the round and removed the clip. As he tucked it in his back pocket, he refused to take any chances. It wasn’t that he believed Elizabeth would do something so drastic, but he also didn't want to even make that gamble.

  There was too much on the line.

  Callen couldn’t lose them both on this assignment.

  Moving from the room, he headed back out to his team to begin the push forward to save his brother and their partner in love and life.

  Now that he had done everything that he could on the personal front, he’d focus on the problem at hand.

  “Hang in there, bro. I’m going to find you.”

  It was time for Callen to lead his family and the team.

  When he finally pulled from sleep, he knew he must have been out a while. His body was lying on a concrete floor and the chill was creeping into his body. Trying to make out any objects, he struggled to get his eyes to adjust to the very dim light coming through the very small windows.