Chapter 11: Screaming in the Night
OH, YAY! THE LIGHTS WERE OUT. There wasn’t a storm within fifty miles of the city. No natural disaster to knock out the power grid. No massive explosion, either. It was a simple outage. Nothing to worry about said the hotel manager. Ha! Easy for him to say. Rori flung the cotton sheet to the side and sprawled naked across the empty bed, willing any air current around to come to her, but there was no cool air to be found. Lying in the dark, she closed her eyes and tried to count sheep, or trees, or anything that would send her to sleep faster. She had to get up early for work and it was already past midnight. Sighing in frustration, she trailed the tips of her nails across her belly just to enjoy the slight shiver the touch brought her.
When she finally sank into that elusive state between wakefulness and deep sleep, the dream came again as it had for the past three nights. As before, she stood in the shadows of a ramshackle house somewhere hot, sticky, and filled with stinging insects. In the dream, she was only an observer, helplessly watching as the bold men stalked through the shadows, weapons held ready, eyes blacker than the night sky.
They waited in the twisting alley behind the yellow house. Inside, a faceless young woman laughed in the arms of a faceless young man. Clearly hiding from their elders, they spoke in hushed whispers, breaking into giggles and husky chuckles as they shared a single bottle of beer and made out. Rori pressed her face to the cracking paint and forced herself to pay better attention to the details this time. The man closest to her rolled his hips forward in an exaggerated sex motion and shot his partner a white, toothy grin. The partner lifted his rifle as their leader jogged soundlessly up beside them and gave the go signal with a raised hand. Both soldiers instantly straightened up and ditched the smiles.
Okay, pay attention to his face. If she could just get a clear view of him, she could describe him to a sketch artist. Having a face to go with the crime was always useful for Dec. Squinting to see better, she tried to memorize his face, but the darkness only distorted the dark hollows of his eyes and slanting cheekbones. It was impossible to make out his features from her position. Damn it! Who was this guy?
Dressed in black cammies and boots, he melted into the night. There were simply no distinguishing features for her to memorize. His face was practically a mask with two eye holes cut out. She couldn’t make out his skin color or the color of his hair either. Hanging to his collar, it was longer than the others, who all wore their hair in a buzz cut. Judging by the lack of even a hint of color, she guessed it was probably black. Too hard to tell though.
With a muffled command, the leader raised his rifle and crept to the broken door that tilted drunkenly in the entrance. Inside, the couple had gotten quiet in the past minute or two. They’d moved past the talking phase and into the getting naked phase of their date.
As the third man slipped through the doorway, Rori flinched in anticipation. The eruption of gunfire shattered the stillness with flashes of light and earsplitting sound. The girl’s terrified screams echoed in the tiny building for what felt like an eternity. But only a few seconds later, the leader appeared with the girl’s unconscious body slung over his shoulder. He took off in a trot as the boatful of soldiers swarmed ashore and murdered everyone in the shantytown, leaving nothing but memories behind.
Crying into her pillow, Rori tossed and turned, reaching for Dec, but only finding his empty pillow. Dec was still gone. She dried her eyes and let exhaustion take her. As she sank deeper into REM sleep, her body settled into the mattress, paralyzed and heavy.
The next dream unwound to show her sitting in the living room with Af looming over her. The sun shone through the windows of the French doors. She wore a thin tank top and cotton shorts like the ones she sometimes slept in. It felt like Sunday. Oddly, Dec wasn’t there and Af was only wearing a pair of jeans. His bare chest and iridescent tattoo seemed ominous. His thick ab muscles rippled when he gestured to emphasize a point. At first his lips moved without making a sound—his hard mouth twisted and sneered with the hate he was spewing—she cringed as his words became clear.
“You’re a dirty little soul, aren’t you? Contaminated. Dirty. Broken.”
Backing away from the words, the guttural voice, the unnatural heat radiating from his body, she shook her head in horrified denial. “No! Why would you say that?”
Stalking forward, fists clenched, his eyes gleamed hotly as he wagged his head. “Dirty. Broken.” He spit the words like machine gun fire. “You have no right to immortality. No claim to that privilege!” His voice rose until the words came at her in a vicious shout. “You come from trash. You’ll die as trash!”
Backed to the wall, she was stunned speechless by his hatred. He pressed closer, too close, using his body to intimidate her, snarling into her face, “Dirty soul!”
“No! No! Stop it! Stop saying that! I’m not!” Twisting her face away, she pushed at his chest, shoving with all of her strength, but he kept pressing closer and closer still until her shoulder blades threatened to snap against the wall at her back.
“Wake up, darlin’. You’re dreaming.”
Dec’s strong arms cuddled her close. Murmuring soothing nonsense to calm her down, he ran his hands over her shaking body as she lost control and broke down in gut-wrenching sobs.
“Shh, now . . . It’s just a dream. I’m here with you. You’re all right.” He rocked her like a baby, his hands touching her with nothing but love and care, but the hateful words played over and over again.
Dirty soul.
“It’s all right, love. I’ve got you.” The love of her life wiped the tears from her face and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. She felt his lips curl into a smile just before he said, “Do you want me to zap you? You’ll feel better.”
Choking on a sob that turned to weak laughter, she said, “That’s cheating. I’ll find my happy place without your supernatural love mojo. But thanks for offering.”
Reaching out, he stroked the curve of her jaw and smiled tentatively. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Talk about what? The dream of a murdered village? The insanity that seemed imminent? Or maybe they could talk about the abomination sleeping in the apartment three floors above them. She had so many things stressing her out right now that there didn’t seem to be a good place to begin. Trusting he would be able to help, she started with the dream. “I dreamed about that woman again. She’s been taken by those soldiers. They killed everyone else.” Forcing the lump in her throat to ease, she mused, “She’s a virgin,” before turning into Dec’s arms to peer into his eyes, searching for some kind of validation. “I don’t even know how I know that, but I do. Those men took her before she had sex. That’s got to mean something. Don’t you think?”
Dec nodded before propping himself up against the padded headboard with a frown. “Yeah. I do. Nothing in your visions is random detail. If that popped out at you, then it must mean something.” He draped a lean hand over her shoulders and idly stroked her tat. “Anything else come to you?”
Besides Af shoving her into a wall? Besides his words reaching into her darkest fears? Besides the Angel of Wrath worming his way into her brain and making her hate herself? “No. Just stress dreams I think. I need to get some things done before my brain explodes. I’m going to find another place for the ceremony today.”
Rori was totally and completely lying to him. What was going on? Dec started to call bullshit but bit his tongue instead. Why would she lie? She never lied to him. She never lied to anyone. That wasn’t her way. She trusted him with her life. He had to be imagining the telltale little quiver in her voice, the way her eyes shifted to the left as she denied that anything was bothering her. Of course she was upset about having to change the wedding around. He didn’t blame her. Af had totally screwed up their plans, and per his nature, created a shitstorm of bad feelings in his wake. She was right to be pissed off about all of this. Add the heartbreaking visions to the mix and it was not a surprise that she wasn’t acting
like herself. Thumbing a loose eyelash away from her cheek, he brushed his lips over her temple in a gesture that was intended to show his support. She stiffened with the contact and eased off the bed without a backwards glance. A pale ray of sunlight shimmered off of her naked hip as she crossed to the bathroom and closed the door with a click.
He rested his head against the headboard and closed his eyes to think. It had been a long, long, long, night. He was beat. The shower came on and the gentle sound of the water lulled him to a doze. As he gave his subconscious free rein, he hummed a few bars of a song he’d been toying with. The melody was dark; the lyrics even darker.
For the love of a demon, I let you go . . . His fingers unconsciously plucked the chords from imaginary guitar strings as the lines drifted across his mind. Twisting me, tearing me . . .
The words faded to background static as Sean’s voice took front stage. The humor was impossible to miss even through the distortion of telepathy. Nice poem. If you’re done being a loser, it’s time to go. I’m leaving now. ETA ASAP.
He sat bolt upright as a nanosecond later, Sean stood in the bedroom doorway, grinning wryly. “Good. You’re still dressed. We need to go. Now.”
Before he could shout a warning, the bathroom door opened and Rori was halfway through it before catching sight of Sean and shoving both hands over her bare chest. With quicker reflexes than he thought she had, she slammed the door with an outraged, “Damn it, Sean!”
Sean didn’t have it in him to be sorry. Instead, he shrugged at the door and yelled, “I’ve seen boobs before.” To Dec, he gestured with annoyance. “Let’s go, man. We have a timetable to meet.”
Rori reappeared with a hotel robe belted tightly around her waist and a scowl marring her pink face. “Sometimes you’re a complete ass, you know that right?”
Sean actually flushed a wee bit and gave her a one-armed hug. “Sorry about that. Really. If it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t even looking. But this is important. I need to steal your man for a quick trip.”
Dec said, “No worries, but I’m taking five minutes to wash up first. I feel gross.” He dropped a kiss on Rori’s mouth and took over the bathroom to stick his head under a faucet and brush his teeth. He really wanted a shower but that would have to wait. Poking his head through the doorway, he asked around his toothbrush, “Where are we going?”
“Not exactly sure. The best I can tell is someplace pretty close to China. We’ll know when we get there.”
Rubbing a towel over his wet hair, he eyeballed Sean for a full second as the situation sunk in. Ah. They were tracking someone. “Who’s the lucky target?”
Sean’s face closed up just like that though his eyes twinkled with mischief. “Your buddy, Keil.”
Rori wheeled around, eyes going round with surprise. “My father? Why are you going after him? What’s going on?”
Dec brought his shirt to his nose and gave it a sniff before peeling it off and jamming his arms into a clean one. With one last drag of fingers through his hair, he shoved his phone into a pocket and pulled Rori against his chest, cupping her butt in both hands as he did. Cutting off her protests by covering her mouth with his own, he took his time, savoring the taste of peppermint and woman as his tongue mingled with hers.
By the time Sean asked, “Do I need to strip or are you two about done?” Rori’s hands were tangled in Dec’s hair and the robe had come apart in the front.
“Shit. Sean.”
Sean burst into rich laughter. “Yeah. I’m still here. And I gotta say that I’m not totally comfortable watching you two have sex, so can we get out of here now?”
Rori’s face was beet red. Refusing to look in Sean’s direction, she pivoted on her heel and took refuge in the bathroom.
He gave his brother a quick fist bump at his clever diversion and called out, “Love you, babe! Yell if you need me.”
To Sean, he said, “Let’s bolt before she catches on.”
Chapter 12: Demon Playtime
THEY SAY FEAR CAN GIVE you strength. They say it can give you the power to drag heavy bodies out of a burning building, or to kill a man without hesitation. All of these remarkable feats can be done with the proper motivation. Fear is a big motivator, yes. To the girl-woman huddling against the graffiti-covered bathroom stall in a lonely rest area in a strange country, fear was joined by another motivating emotion; anger. It was pure, beautiful, righteous anger that gave her strength to endure, strength to resist despair, strength to hope.
Oh, Holy Father, please help me.
As Irina Masahor struggled to shimmy her shorts to her ankles so she could use the toilet, she banged her elbow into the metal wall and winced at the numbing pain.
A mean chuckle accompanied her hiss of indrawn breath. The man who held her captive dragged his black eyes over her bare thighs with a gleam of speculation that froze her in place. Handcuffed as she was, and now with her shorts down, she’d never felt more vulnerable. A trickle of sweat made its way between her bony shoulder blades to join with others that had left her t-shirt sticky with moisture. If he chose to act on his impulses, she’d be helpless to stop him.
As if reading her mind, the corners of his mouth quirked with humor. “I’m not turned on by the golden flow, sweetheart.” Dismissing her completely, he moved to the sink to wash up while she kept her gaze pinned on his back. He sluiced water over his face and scrubbed at his eyes. His broad back hid the sink. If only she had a knife. She could bury it in him and run into the night. The oddly humorous tone sharpened as he shut off the tap with a hard twist. “Hurry the fuck up. I’m not stopping again tonight.”
With that, he stepped outside, but kept his big body wedged just inside of the open door. That was probably the only privacy she was going to get from the monster. Shoving the urge to argue deep down inside, she finished going to the bathroom, and dripped dry since she couldn’t reach the toilet paper roll in the other stall and would rather die than ask him to help her with such a personal act. Struggling to stand upright again, she managed to wiggle and shimmy her shorts up and buttoned them just as he turned around.
“May I wash my hands or will that take too long?”
His eyes narrowed at her challenging tone, but he nodded thoughtfully, a glint of flame crossing the black irises. Even though he agreed, the sudden tension in his powerful shoulders sent her thoughts racing in panic. What was she thinking? This man held her life in his hands. She should be working to escape; working to survive. Challenging him wasn’t helpful. According to him, they had a long trip ahead. She had some time to think of a plan. Instinct whispered beneath her fear. She needed to play up being the victim. Make him think she was subdued, obedient, terrified. She was definitely terrified, but obedient? Never! Her grandmother did not raise her to cower like a scared kitten. She would find a way to get away from this man. Though for now . . . It was better to act as he expected. He believed her to be helpless. She would be that for him. He was only a man. He would make a mistake sooner or later.
Seth drove with one wrist balanced on the top of the steering wheel. The other lay on his thigh. The night sky popped into sight occasionally as the road twisted and turned in the high peaks of the Smokey Mountains. Life outside of Hell didn’t get much better than this. The Porsche’s powerful engine purred beneath his hand. The top of the line sound system throbbed with the rising crescendo of Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyrie as he set his mind to autopilot and simply enjoyed the moment. Fuzzy visions of helicopters and machine guns drifted across his memory. Ah, great movie. Great war. He sometimes missed his time in Vietnam—so much death—so much suffering. Those were good times.
Tapping his fingers to the piccolo, he resisted the urge to close his eyes and sink into the leather seat. They were almost there. It wouldn’t be long now. They were both ready for the trip to end, though for very different reasons. He was looking forward to payday. She was looking for salvation. One of them was bound to be disappointed and he’d bet Lucifer’s ass it wouldn’t be
him.
The woman was asleep. Her thoughts of rebellion and survival were quiet as her subconscious gave her dreams instead. It amused him that she was trying to be clever. Even if he couldn’t read her mind, her face was an open book. Every emotion shone clearly for him to see. The fiery anger was intriguing, exciting. What a rush to let her release that fury just before taking her hard and fast. It had been a while since he’d had a virgin squirming beneath his cock. In his line of work, they were a dime a dozen, really. He didn’t indulge often though. Working his way into the big boss’ inner circle was more important than pussy. That being said, his cock twitched with interest and he idly dragged his fingers over the bulge. Maybe he should pull over?
The music abruptly stopped playing as the soft ding of a phone call came through the speakers.
“Seth,” he snapped.
The voice on the other end snapped right back. “Where are you?”
All thoughts of pleasure evaporated and he sat up straight. “We’re a few hours from the first stop, sir. In the Smokies. We’ll be in place well before the meeting at 9:00.”
“Is she cooperating?”
“Yes, sir, but she’s thinking of rebelling already.”
His boss laughed smoothly and Seth relaxed. “Of course she is. Now you see why she has to disappear?”
“I understand completely. I have everything arranged. This will be a prosperous venture for all of us.”
His boss snorted uncharacteristically. “Money means nothing to me. Do what you want with her as long as she doesn’t reproduce.”
The connection went dead without another word. He rolled his shoulders and peered at her from the corner of his eye. Still asleep. Her plump lower lip trembled and her mouth parted with a soft sleepy sound. The tip of her tongue showed for a moment. The dashboard clock showed it was just after 4:00 a.m. The sun would be up in a little while and they would be at the first stop soon. He’d need to get her washed up and fed to meet their first client, but before that . . .
Saol Mates (Primani Book Six) Page 13