by J. E. Taylor
She closed her eyes on all the what-ifs drifting in her head and let the exhaustion yank her under.
He walked shakily into the clearing, sidestepping away from the black water as he snapped the picture. He laughed to himself and turned to head back the way he had come. A claw shot out of the dark, ripping through his flesh. He fell to his knees as the dark figure lifted his arm again.
Jennifer screamed and tried to sit up. “No, no, no, no.” She sobbed in the dark.
“What’s wrong?” Steve said, immediately standing next to her.
“It got someone else.” The chains vibrated on the stone as she shook. “It just killed someone else.”
Steve put his hand on her stomach. “I’m not gonna let it get you, Jen. I’ll die before I let that happen.”
That’s exactly what she was afraid of.
The slam of a car door outside the crypt brought both of them to their present situation.
“Love you.” He kissed her and stepped away with the gun in his hand, aimed at the door, unaware that he now stood in the middle of the pentacle.
Chapter 40
The doors swung open and the report of a gunshot made Bill spin from his perch in the van. Adam paused in the entrance, and a second shot sounded. This time Adam’s head snapped with the force of the bullet, and he fell backwards, a hole smoking between his eyes.
Bill glanced at Jake and Joe, the fear pumping hot fuel through his blood, the rest of the brothers hugged the building walls outside the doors, their expressions mimicking both Joe and Jake. Horror, shock, fear, and all eyes landed on the van for further direction.
“He has a gun?” Jake asked, looking from one frat member to the next.
“Apparently,” Bill said and glanced at Adam. “And he’s either a damn good shot, or just lucky.” He returned his gaze to Jake and he swallowed the ball in his throat. “I’d rather take my chances with him than that thing…” he trailed off thinking about the consequences if they didn’t deliver Jennifer and Steve to Black Cove.
Both Joe and Jake nodded.
“So what do we do?” Joe asked, his gaze glued to Adam.
“Storm the crypt. If we don’t, we’re just as dead as Adam,” Jake said.
Bill waived the closer group to the van. “I want you three to get the gun away from that maniac,” Bill said.
Three pairs of eyebrows arched.
“Why us?”
“Because you don’t know the full ritual and if we don’t do it, we’ll all be dead by the morning.”
Their faces paled and they exchanged glances before nodding. Before they could second-guess their decision, they spun and darted into the entrance. Two more rounds rocked the cemetery and then silence. A moment later, Kurt appeared and waved them inside.
Before the three of them entered the crypt, they hauled Adam into the van, covering him in the back. Bill wiped his hands on the robe he wore and grabbed the bag of condoms, his mind already mapping out his exact revenge for screwing up the night.
When he stepped inside, he paused, his gaze landing on Steve kneeling in the middle of the pentacle with the barrel of the gun planted on his temple. He even mustered up the courage to glare from behind dark bangs.
* * * *
He silently cursed his lack of accuracy. Adam was the only one who went down, but that’s because he froze and it gave Steve the time to guess at the right aim. The others were moving and with the drugs, he didn’t have a prayer at picking them off. His ears still rang from the report of the gun in such a small space. When the rest of the brothers filtered in, he glared at them, ignoring the hot metal on his temple.
The firelight from the torches they carried cast reflections in the glasses of one of the fraternity members and Steve got a quick glance of what they saw.
He looked like a demon himself, with glowing eyes amidst smeared paint on his face and a bloody pentacle stood out on his bare chest, along with two single red dots an inch from either clavicle. Jesus, I’m a fucking mess.
Refocusing his attention from the disturbing reflection back to the clan filtering in and closing the doors, his gaze never faltered, never diverted from the one bastard he wanted to see riding an electric chair. Bill smiled and took out the box of condoms, showing it to Steve and then tossed it towards the altar.
Rage curled in a tight ball within him, itching to strike but hands clamped on his shoulders, keeping him kneeling on the floor. “If you touch her, I will personally skin you alive,” Steve growled low in his chest, staring at Bill.
Bill laughed and handed a challis to Joe before pointing the dagger at Steve. “You nearly ruined the entire ritual with your little shit fit with the gun. I’m going to enjoy fucking her while you watch.”
Steve gritted his teeth. “I swear to God, you will die.”
Bill laughed. “You’re the one who’s going to die.”
“I’m not dying today,” Steve snarled. “And neither is she.” He flexed the muscles in his arm and the butt of the gun slammed down on his temple. He fell to his hands, bright lights blinding him and he blinked, shaking them away. When he looked up, Bill wasn’t in view and he got to his feet now that the gun wasn’t planted against his head.
He turned toward the altar and his eyes widened. Dread filled ever fiber of his soul at the sight of a knife held to the tender flesh of Jennifer’s throat.
Steve locked eyes with her and tears blurred his vision. He blinked them away, feeling the warm tracks slide down his cheeks. Epic fail. His internal voice chimed and he exhaled, returning his attention to Bill.
He glanced around the room and his gaze landed on Joe. “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked, hoping to get through to someone.
Bill stepped to the altar, positioning himself between her bound legs. He grabbed the jacket covering her and flung it across the room. Leaving her exposed for all the men to see.
“She’s the sacrifice this year,” Jake explained. “The fraternity brothers get to do whatever they want with her and then we leave what’s left for him.”
Jennifer began to shake on the altar. “No!”
“You’ll both get to see Tracy again,” Bill said and a bitter smile formed on his lips.
Steve still focused on the knife against Jennifer’s throat, his heart racing, his mind turning over options for escape. Even if he could dodge the last bullet, he still wouldn’t have the time needed to save her from that blade. His face scrunched in anguish and he took a shaky breath. “Fucking bastards.”
“Oh yeah, that little phone stunt this evening cost plenty,” Bill said. “She took a dive off the balcony today.”
Jennifer’s chin trembled and tears slid from the corners of her eyes.
“You killed her?” Steve asked, his attention now diverted one hundred percent to Bill and the full admission of murder.
“Had to—she would have caused problems,” he said.
The expression on Steve’s face changed. The entire room came into clear focus and he slipped into automatic FBI gear. “William Tyler, I’m arresting you for the death of Tracy Sheehan. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you at interrogation time and at court. Do you understand these rights as I have read them?”
“What the fuck is this?” Bill asked, pointing the dagger in Steve’s direction.
“You just admitted to murder. I need you and everyone else in here to understand your rights before I send you to jail for the rest of your life.” Steve tilted his head with a smile.
Bill laughed.
“Look in the inside pocket of my jacket, Sherlock,” he snapped.
“Charlie, take a look,” Bill said.
“Oh shit,” Charlie said, pulling out the badge and handcuffs. His gaze bounced between the badge and Steve. “Holy-fucking-shit,” he repeated, and tossed it to Bill.
“Do you understand your rights?” Steve
asked again.
Bill stared at the FBI emblem and Steve’s picture below it. “Well, I’ll be damned. You’re a fucking FBI agent?” he chuckled. “Where’s your backup?”
“They’ll be here any moment. Do you understand your rights?”
“I think he’s bluffing,” Bill said, glancing at Jennifer for a moment and then back at Steve. “No one knows where you are.”
Jake dragged the dagger away from her throat and gently traced her body with the tip.
Steve took a step toward them and stopped, his eyes betraying him as readily as the tense set of his shoulders.
“Are you willing to watch her die?” Jake asked as he put the tip of the dagger directly over her heart.
Steve shook his head.
“Then stand down,” Jake said. “Or she dies.”
Steve stepped back and put his arms down in submission. “Damn you,” he whispered. “God damn you.”
Charlie grabbed him from behind, pushing him down on his knees in the center of the pentacle.
“He’s a cop,” Joe said, looking between Steve and Jake and Bill. “I didn’t sign up to kill a cop.” He put his hands up in the air and took a step toward the door.
Bill leveled his gaze at Joe. “You want to run? Go ahead. You know the consequences.” He moved his gaze around the room, landing back on Joe.
Joe inhaled sharply.
“What are the consequences?” Steve turned to Joe, hoping for an ally, but what he saw in Joe’s eyes killed any hope and the words that followed were like a mallet driving a nail into his coffin.
“A brutal, painful, prolonged death, one you can’t run away from,” Joe said, his eyes sliding away toward Jennifer and filling with the same anticipation the rest of the group had etched on their faces.
Joe licked his lips and nodded, meeting Bill’s questioning stare. Steve noticed the bulge in the front of his robe, in front of all their robes, and despair chipped away at his humanity, replacing it with a cold craving for revenge.
“Cuff him,” Bill said, throwing a rope that was behind the altar toward them. “And then tie that to his ankles.”
Steve didn’t move as they put the handcuffs on his wrists in front of him this time and then tied the rope from the cuffs to his ankle. Hanging his head, he shook, trying to contain his rage. He glanced toward the pledge with the gun and calculated his odds. He closed his eyes and despair wrung the life from his soul because he knew if he took that gamble, he’d lose.
The knowledge of what was about to happen didn’t help his state of mind. It clouded everything and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop them. Unable to watch the brutality in front of him, he stared at the floor, hearing the box of condoms being ripped open and the shuffling sounds of a package opening.
Jennifer’s uneven wheezing drowned out the remaining sounds and he closed his eyes, willing his ears to shut out her sobs. He wished he still had the blindfold and headphones on.
“I want him to watch.”
Bill’s voice penetrated his concentration and his eyes snapped open to the graceful arc of the pentagram painted on the floor.
Fingers snapped and someone grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking his head back so he couldn’t help but watch.
Bill loomed over Jennifer, his hands pushing her thighs. “We get to fuck her until the full moon fills the stained glass window. I figure we have a little over three hours before that happens.” He smiled and with a violent thrust of his hips, buried his member in her, making her scream in pain.
“I’m going to kill you,” Steve growled. “I swear.” He looked at her face. Tears flowed and her teeth clenched in pain as her green eyes locked with his.
“This is nothing compared to what he’ll do to you,” Bill said, pumping hard, his laughter filled the small space.
Steve mumbled under his breath, swearing vengeance, swearing he’d rip each of them apart. None of his whispered words were heard over Jennifer’s cries, each painful sob punctuated with a grunt until Bill moaned and flopped on top of her.
He crawled off, stripping the used condom and dropping it to the floor before slipping his robe back. Picking up the dagger as another fraternity member took his place, he headed in Steve’s direction.
Steve struggled against the bonds and the hand holding his head in place.
Bill squatted in front of Steve. “Next time maybe I’ll fuck her up the ass in memory of Adam. That’s what his plan was,” he laughed and tapped the flat end of the blade on his lips, contemplatively raising an eyebrow. “Actually that’s on my list of to-dos as well.”
Steve’s guttural roar reverberated off the walls, scraping the lining of his throat, and he renewed his thrashing efforts. Sudden, blinding pain gripped his arm and Steve blinked, lowering his gaze to the dagger embedded in his flesh. Jennifer’s protest brought his glance back to her in time for Bill to yank the blade out.
“No!” Jennifer yelled, focused on him instead of the animal assaulting her.
Steve didn’t make a sound. He closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them back up when Bill yanked a handful of his hair. The drugs helped to keep the physical pain detached and surreal.
The mental anguish, on the other hand, was beyond his limitations.
The horror of their actions mixed with his own arousal sparked shame and fury to layer one after the other across his chest, pressing down on him until even drawing a breath hurt. Tears continued in a constant stream down his face as he watched the woman he loved raped and ravaged by his fraternity brothers.
Memorizing each depraved act, Steve swore they would never see the halls of justice.
When they’d each had a turn, Jake unchained her and pulled her to the edge of the altar, grasping a handful of her hair to keep her in place. The inside of her thighs and lower back sported ugly red and purple bruises from the repeated assaults.
Jennifer gagged and her hand flew to her mouth, covering it.
“You throw up and he dies,” Jake said, yanking her head back to make sure she had the full view of the next ritual. He nodded toward Bill.
Steve held her gaze, even when Bill placed the tip of the dagger in the middle of one of the round circles near his left clavicle. A calm layer of numbness settled over him dulling the pain, dulling his physical senses and neutralizing his emotions. He’d do anything to protect her, even if it meant dying and as the dagger rose, that’s exactly what he thought was coming.
“I love you,” he whispered and then the dagger pierced his skin. Sharp pain followed, grinding and morphing as Bill pulled the blade out again, leaving a burning bloody path. The room twisted, but Steve clung to consciousness, his jaw tight and his eyes blinking to keep focus.
“Get him off of there,” Jake commanded.
Bill dragged Steve off the pentacle, relinquishing him to Joe.
During the transfer, the rope between Steve’s hands and ankles snapped and he blinked again, inhaling a deep breath at the turn of events. The dagger didn’t hit any major organs. His lungs still worked, his heart still beat and his vision cleared, sharper than before because of the pain but he didn’t emit a sound.
Bill traded the dagger for Jennifer, taking her by the hair and yanking her into the center of the pentacle. “On your knees,” he said.
With the clarity of mind also came waves of murderous images and in each one, Bill played a significant role, his imaginary screams of pain bringing a slight smile to Steve’s lips. Knives and blood trailed in his vision path, blocking out the scene before him—the scene of Jennifer on her knees sucking Bill’s dick while the fraternity brothers chanted an incantation in Latin. As Bill sped up, the incantation reached a crescendo and he barely noticed the goblet pressed to his skin below his bloody wound.
Bill took a step back and Jake pulled the full challis away from Steve’s skin.
* * * *
Of all the emotions snaking in her skin, anger welled to the surface and Jennifer stood on shaky legs and punted. The top of her
foot connected with Bill’s balls, doubling him over. His high-pitched scream muffled when her knee slammed into his face, breaking his nose, and she let out a cry worthy of a warrior. Satisfaction, vindication, and adrenaline pumped through her veins, and she gathered herself for another blow. Her fist was formed in a tight ball and cocked back when Jake spoke.
“I wouldn’t do that,” he said calmly. Her gaze jumped from Bill’s bloody face to Jake.
The rush in her veins fizzled, coating her skin with a cold sweat that sent shivers straight to her bones. Jake had the tip of the dagger to Steve’s throat. Her fists dropped along with the welling shimmer of hope. When she turned back to Bill, the back of his hand smacked across her cheek and she spun, landing on her hands and knees on the cold floor. Her face throbbed with stinging heat where he connected and her vision blurred through the sudden layer of tears that sprang.
“Clean up that blood,” Jake demanded, and motioned to the drops in the pentacle from Bill’s nose.
Joe tossed her Steve’s shirt and she wiped up the few droplets of blood on the floor. Her eyes kept going back to the tip of the knife against Steve’s throat, a small bead of blood sliding down his skin from the sharp edge. She met his gaze and this time he was fully there, his soul penetrating hers. Pain and failure was inscribed in the blue of his irises and she bit her lip, trying to convey to him that this wasn’t his fault. The self-blame and responsibility in his eyes cut her deeper than anything else that had happened. She could deal with the physical abuse, the fear, the pain, even the thought of dying, but seeing the depth of his pain tore her apart.
“Good girl, now toss it out of the circle,” Jake said, pulling her gaze away from Steve.
She tossed the shirt where he pointed.
With the blade still pressed to Steve’s throat, Jake handed the cup to Bill and then pointed to the pentagram, directing Jennifer to the center. “Kneel in the center.”
She shifted and knelt where he told her to, her gaze flitting between the drop of blood slowly cascading down Steve’s throat and his intense stare.