Sacrifice

by Denise Grover Swank

  “You’re really frightened of me.”

  She bit her tongue.

  “I can make you love me.”

  “No. Just go.”

  He started to rise, then abruptly leaned forward and pushed her back on the bed, kissing her.

  She sobbed her frustration as she faded again, her body craving his.

  The scissors.

  They were under her pillow. Her hand reached behind and slid under, searching.

  “I love you, Emmanuella. I’ve waited for you for so long.”

  Her hand stilled as his power overcame hers. He was right. She was his. No, a small voice in her head protested. She made one last half-hearted swipe under the pillow, her hand brushing cold metal.

  Her fingers curled around the handles before she toppled into the need he generated. His power lapped at her in waves, sending licks of craving throughout her. Don’t fight him. I’m his.

  No.

  Concentrate. Make this count. Fighting the fog of desire was like pushing into strong wind. She focused every bit of concentration on swinging the scissors as she pushed him with her other hand.

  He rolled to the side and she held the scissors at his neck, the points poking into his flesh.

  His eyes flew wide in alarm.

  “Get the fuck away from me, Raphael.”

  He scooted away from her on the bed, closer to the door, his mouth twisted in shock as blood trickled down his neck.

  She leaned forward to keep the scissors against his pulse point, careful to keep from physically touching him.

  “Emma…” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

  “I’ll kill you if I have to. Get out.”

  He reached the edge of the bed and slid his feet to the floor.

  Emma retracted her hand but held out the scissor points toward him.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” He left the room without looking back.

  The scissors shook in her hand as the adrenaline rush peaked. She stumbled to the door and locked it even though she knew it wouldn’t keep him out. Collapsing in a heap, she crawled to the bed, still weak from what Raphael had done to her that afternoon. She needed food but was scared to leave the room. Perhaps the next best thing was sleep, but she was terrified to lose consciousness. He could come back, and by the time she realized what he was doing it would be too late. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was two a.m. She’d been out for hours.

  He really had almost killed her.

  She had to figure out a way to escape. To do that, she needed to be stronger. Which meant she had to practice, but she couldn’t even walk out of the room, let alone walk out to the pasture. To fall asleep meant she’d be at Raphael’s mercy. She was sick to death of being at anyone’s mercy.

  When Alex came back the next day, she had to get him to teach her how to mask herself. Raphael was getting crazier and crazier. The next time he might go too far.

  She lay on the bed, sliding the scissors under her pillow but keeping her fingers curled around the handle.

  ***

  The shadows danced around the room, no longer hiding their movement, spinning faster and faster until Jake hid under his covers.

  Aiden was coming.

  He sensed his movement through the house, felt the sickening warm wave as Aiden made his way to Jake’s bedroom.

  Jake would pay.

  But Mommy was alive and safe for the moment. Will had saved her this time. Raphael was dangerous, even Aiden knew it from comments that slipped out. But now Aiden knew he could talk to Will.

  Yet he wasn’t sorry, even if Will was in danger. He felt his mommy through his connection with Will, even if it was only for a few seconds.

  The door slammed against the wall as Aiden threw it open and Jake lowered his sheet. There was no hiding from Aiden.

  The shadows had stopped, lurking on the walls with curves that looked like hooks. Jake preferred the shadows to Aiden.

  Aiden stood in the doorway, his eyes glowing in a golden light. “What have you done?”

  Jake sat up, his chin trembling.

  “He’s alive.” Aiden’s voice boomed through the room, making the furniture shake.

  Had Aiden thought Will was dead? He wished he knew what happened between the time he left the house in Montana with Aiden and he woke up in this room. Dread mixed with fear spiraled around Jake’s chest and squeezed.

  “Not only is he alive, but he knows about Emmanuella. How does he know about her?”

  Of course he knew about Mommy. What was Aiden talking about? “Raphael was killing Mommy.”

  “How did you know this?”

  “I heard her. Raphael was killing her and she screamed for Will.”

  Aiden’s eyebrows rose and his voice lowered to a whisper. “You heard her? And so did Will?”

  Jake nodded, Aiden’s face blurry through his tears.

  “This changes everything.”

  ***

  Emma felt better the next morning But at breakfast she convinced Raphael that she was still too weak to practice. Guilt swept over his face and he wouldn’t look her in the eye.

  “Emma, I’m sorry.”

  If he said that he was sorry one more time, she really would stab him.

  He took a drink then lowered the glass as he studied the amber liquid. “I have an errand I need to run. If you feel well enough, I’ll leave you here alone, but I’ll be gone all day and won’t be home until late tonight. Will you be all right by yourself?”

  She hoped her relief wasn’t too obvious. She wanted to tell him she’d be safer without him here, but worried if she was too antagonistic he wouldn’t leave. “Yes.”

  “I’ll leave my cell phone number in case you need me for anything, but it might take some time to get back to you.” He paused, worry filling his eyes. “Are you certain you’ll be okay? Maybe I should wait until you get better.”

  “No,” she said too quickly, then gave him a quick pat on his arm. “No, I’ve already been enough of a burden. You go and I’ll be fine.” But curiosity got the better of her and she glanced at him through her eyelashes. “Where are you going?”

  He hesitated. “You don’t need to concern yourself with the matter. Just rest assured that I’m seeking outside help to smooth out your difficulties.”

  “Difficulties?” Her breath stuck in her throat, making her words sound squeaky.

  His eyes softened. “I know you’re trying. I see your fear and I’ve been too hard on you. I think I might know a source that will tell me what the problem is. I’d take you with me, but I’m worried it might be dangerous, especially in your weakened condition.” He rose, taking his plate to the sink. “But I need to leave soon. I’ve left my cell phone number by the phone here in the kitchen.”

  Emma had been excited about the phone when she first saw it days ago, until she realized she didn’t have anyone she could call. Even if she called the police, Raphael would find her and potentially kill people to get her back. She couldn’t risk it.

  Now she wondered if there was someone she could call after all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The sun had begun to set, a thick haze hanging over the yard. Emma found a small bag and packed several changes of clothes and some food. She went into Raphael’s bedroom and discovered a small stash of cash tucked in a dresser drawer. His room hadn’t been the dark, oppressive décor she’d expected. Instead it was light and airy, with a small portrait on an easel in a corner by the window.

  A portrait of her.

  No, not her. Raphael’s Emmanuella.

  The girl in the portrait was much younger and her eyes sparkled with innocence and youth. Emma doubted her eyes had ever looked like that. Her life had never afforded innocence.

  The girl’s hair was pulled up into an elaborately curled hairstyle. She wore a red ruffled dress that was cut low, the skirt full. Emma guessed the painting to be several hundred years old from the clothing and the cracks in the oil paint. How had Raphael got
ten it?

  If he had a portrait of Emmanuella, he obviously loved her in his own way, which made Emma almost feel guilty about what she was about to do.

  Almost.

  At eight twenty, she walked down the long circular driveway to the road. She hadn’t seen the front of the house since Raphael had brought her here almost a week ago.

  A car with darkened windows parked perpendicular to the driveway as she approached. As it idled, she hesitated. Was this really her only option?

  Yes.

  She opened the door and slid in the front, tossing her bag over her shoulder into the backseat.

  “You’re early. Eager to see me?”

  Her eyebrows rose with a smirk. “I could ask you the same.”

  Alex grinned as he pulled away from the curb. “Raphael’s going to be very upset with you, Emma.”

  “Like I give a flipping rat’s ass.”

  He chuckled. “You have changed.”

  “Why does everyone presume to know me? You don’t know shit about me.”

  “You might want to consider at least pretending to be nice. Otherwise I could dump you on the road right here and let you take your chances with Raph.”

  She crossed her arms. “You won’t.”

  “Be careful making that call, Emma. While it might be true now, the day is coming that you’ll be fair game to the both of us.”

  The truth of his words deflated her momentary relief over her escape. Alex was right. At some point, one or both of them would cut their losses and probably try to cut out their competition. Emma hoped that day of reckoning didn’t come until the very end. But she worried about Raphael’s reaction when he discovered she was missing. He was borderline psychotic at best. Would he find her and drag her back or would he kill her now and be done with it? “You have to teach me how to hide myself.”

  Alex snorted. “I don’t have to teach you how to do anything.”

  “If you don’t, Raphael will just track me down and your rescue trip will have been for nothing.”

  “I’m masking you, so Raphael can’t find you right now. And when the time is right, I’ll teach you, but only after conditions are met.”

  “What conditions?”

  He held up a finger and waved it back and forth. “Uh, uh, uh. You’ll find out in due time. First things first, we need to make some ground rules.”

  Emma rolled her eyes. “I thought that was my line.”

  “Ha, very funny. The first rule is you don’t touch me. Also, we will be in close proximity as little as possible and you will refrain from using your power around me unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “You’re making me feel unloved.”

  He shot her a go to hell look.

  However, his requests made sense. If she was capable of doing to him half of what Raphael did to her, he had made a calculated risk helping her leave Raphael. “So why did you help me?”

  “Honestly?” He cast her a sideways glance. “I’m not sure.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

  “To quote someone I know: You don’t know shit about me.”

  “I know you raped me six years ago.” That reminder made her question her own sanity for sitting here next to him. At least Raphael had acted in his love-crazed delirium. Alex had been cruel and sadistic.

  “Maybe that’s why I’m helping you now.”

  Doubtful. Most likely Alex figured that if he helped her, then she’d feel a need to repay him for his kindness later. By joining with him. But the truth was that Alex had a lot riding on her survival and he couldn’t stand by and let Raphael kill her.

  “Do you have any idea where Raphael went today?” Alex asked as he pulled onto the highway.

  “He said he had to run an errand. Something to smooth out my difficulties.”

  Alex laughed. “So that’s what he’s calling it. Figures.” He shook his head. “I happen to know where he went, although it was a wasted trip.”

  “So where’d he go?”

  “To the Vinco Potentia compound in South Dakota to get the book of De Luca’s writings.”

  Emma’s head swam. She swallowed her nervousness and concentrated on appearing curious. Did Alex know that she knew about the book or the prophecy? “What?”

  “Lorenzo De Luca was the guy who wrote the prophecy that’s sent humans all atwitter for several hundred years.”

  “Don’t go getting all judgmental. Only a month ago you were one of those humans destroying other people’s lives because of that prophecy.” Hers included. Gut instinct told her not to let Alex know she had taken the book. Could she pull off the next part with what she knew? “Why was it a wasted trip?”

  “Because the book is gone. I was there a few days ago and it was missing.”

  “If it just has the prophecy, what’s the big deal?” That’s all Will claimed to find, other than some dates with incidents that had happened or that the Vinco Potentia had averted. But then, she’d been too distraught about Jake when he looked at the book to give him her full attention.

  “Because it’s the official record of the rules of the game.”

  “What?” Will hadn’t found anything about the rules. Unless it was in the section written in another language.

  “The rules appear in the book, mystically. The book has changed over the years. In the beginning, it was just papyrus paper, but over time, it evolved into a bound journal. But in addition to the physical properties of the book, every time there was a tweak to the rules, they changed inside the book. I was hoping to find the book and read the official rules. I don’t trust Aiden to give us all the information, and apparently neither does Raphael.”

  “So where is the book now?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Emma guessed that the book was with James, and if it contained half of what Alex said, she needed to get her hands on it. Alex may have helped her escape Raphael, but that hadn’t bought her trust. “Can you find it?”

  He shrugged with a heavy sigh. “I’m not sure where to look. I’ll have to backtrack and see who saw it last, which is going to be hard to do since Scott Kramer is dead.”

  Her eyes flew open in surprise. “What? How?”

  Alex swallowed and gave her a crooked smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Why, Emma, I didn’t know you cared about Kramer. Especially since he was the one who hired Will Davenport to bring you to them.”

  When he put it that way, she wondered if she should thank him after all. But the mention of Will sobered her, dropping a heavy veil of grief around her heart. Kramer’s death was a very odd coincidence considering the current events. “Yeah, Kramer and I were buddies. How did he die?”

  “Let’s just say Kramer had a little industrial accident.”

  Resisting the urge to press for more, she made herself accept that he wasn’t going to share what he knew. In the grand scheme of things, what did she care how one of a shitload of assholes died?

  “So what’s our plan?”

  His eyebrows rose with a sarcastic smirk. “Our plan?”

  “Fine, your plan.”

  “You’re awfully self-assured for someone being held prisoner.”

  She laughed. “Prisoner? Really? I realize that you’re the one in control right now, but we both know how quickly that can turn on you.”

  A scowl furrowed his brow and she almost felt like an ass. She was no better than Raphael. But she needed to remember that Alex would sell his grandmother to the devil himself if he would aid him in any way. She should have no guilt in getting what she needed from him.

  “Where are we going?”

  “First the airport. Then a private plane to Missouri.”

  Her heart flip-flopped. Her mother was in Missouri, but so was Will’s apartment. Why would Alex want to go to Missouri? Maybe he knew Will had taken the book after all, and this was some big con job on his part to use her to get it.

  Anticipating her question, he grinned. “Nope, it’s a surprise. But I will tell you
that you and I will part ways tomorrow.”

  Her mouth dropped in surprise. “But…”

  “I’m not going to tell you, so you might as well save your breath.”

  She had a million questions, but they would all have to wait. She was safe from Raphael, at least for a little while.

  ***

  The drive to Kansas City was unsettling, the gray overcast sky matching Will’s mood. He found it difficult pretending he didn’t know about James’s duplicity. He continued to remind himself that he needed James. But he couldn’t get past the question that drove him closer to the edge of insanity.

  Why?

  Why would James toss away over twenty years of friendship to betray him? And if he didn’t betray him, why would he lie? Had Will done something to lose James’s trust? Was it that James hated Emma so much? Would he really risk their friendship?

  James knew Will wasn’t himself, but Will excused it as still recovering from his incarceration, which wasn’t a lie. Between his dreams, the torture, and the question of James’s loyalty, Will’s mind wandered and struggled to focus. He needed a plan to find out what James knew and wasn’t telling him, then where to go and what to do from there. James was right. They needed to extricate themselves from the Vinco Potentia, but he didn’t agree that turning Jake over to Alex was the solution—if nothing else because it would hurt Emma even more. If they had spent a month trying to recapture Jake from Alex, then it seemed crazy to give him back. They didn’t even know if Alex wanted Jake back.

  If Jake was still alive.

  His stomach churned at the thought, but he reminded himself that Jake had visited him in a dream last night. Listen to yourself. You’re turning dreams into facts. But the dream felt so real, and there was no denying the tiny half-moon nail cuts on his palm, cuts that were far too small to have come from his own nails.

  They arrived in Kansas City after dark and James parked several blocks away from Will’s apartment, in case the building was under surveillance. Another wave of déjà vu swept through Will as they walked down a dark street and passed a parking lot, but he shook it off. Even if it was a buried memory of his time with Emma, he doubted it would surface.