The Steve Williams Series Boxed Set

by J. E. Taylor

  Bill handed the cup to her. “Drink.”

  Jennifer gawked at him, her mouth falling askew as her glance fell to the thick burgundy liquid sloshing in the challis. “You, uh, you want me to drink this?” Her voice carried the incredulous tone skittering through her and she turned her head in Steve’s direction. His wide eyes met hers. He glanced from the cup in her hand back to her face.

  “I don’t believe I stuttered,” Bill said. “Now drink.”

  She stared blankly at him, her mind misfiring. Did he just say to drink Steve’s blood?

  “Do you want to see him die right here, right now?” Bill asked, pointing at Steve.

  Jennifer brought the cup to her lips. Her hands shook. Tipping the challis, she tasted his blood. It was warm and thick and she forced both the sip and the gag down her throat. She let out a small sob, pulling the cup away from her mouth.

  “All of it,” Jake demanded. Bill pushed the cup back to her lips.

  Jennifer looked at Steve as she drank, forcing herself to swallow the vile liquid. When she’d finished and dropped the cup, her hands flew to her mouth, covering it. Her entire body shook.

  “Don’t throw up, or we’ll poke another hole in your boyfriend here,” Jake said.

  Bill picked up the cup. He turned it upside down and let the droplets fall onto Jennifer and the center of the pentacle.

  Each droplet that touched the floor sizzled, producing steam that smelled like burning flesh.

  Bill stepped away quickly and the outline of the pentacle glowed from a dull light to that of burning embers of a fire, yet Jennifer shivered in the center, her breath coming in plumes of white fog. Cold wrapped around her, caressing her skin, chilling, and then the familiar burning touch of the thing in her closet clasped her shoulders, pushing her forward. This time it didn’t stop there, its icy member burned its way inside her and yanked out just as quickly.

  Its scream echoed through the small chamber drowning out hers and making everyone cover their ears. With her ears still ringing, the chill receded as quickly as it came and she sat back on her heels, her breath wheezing in her lungs. The pressure on her chest constricted and she forced an inhale, dragging a minimal amount of oxygen in, enough to squeak out a shaky sob.

  “Breathe.”

  His soft voice pulled her out of her panic and she met his frightened, wide-eyed gaze. Concern layered over the fear and her lungs let up, allowing air to draw in with the smallest of wheezes. Jesus.

  “What the hell just happened?” Bill asked Jake.

  Jennifer slowly stood in the center of the pentacle, her head hanging low, her hair over her eyes, and realization suddenly gave her a new strength, a new hope. She gently moved the hair from her face so she could see Steve. “We hurt it,” she said to him.

  He blinked, clearly not understanding how that was possible, but she knew. She caught the anguish in the beast’s cry. She caught the pain and reveled in it. Backing out of the pentacle, she stepped on Steve’s discarded shirt and squatted, picking it up and slipping it on. It fell to her thighs and, despite the spots of tacky drying blood, it made her feel better to be covered up.

  Bill glared at her. “You’re just a common whore. We should have hunted you down two years ago. But no, Tom wouldn’t stand for that! What an idiot.”

  Jennifer slowly turned to him. “What?”

  “Tom wouldn’t let us take you. He brought in some freshman instead and offered her along with his life in return for yours.” Bill shook his head.

  Jennifer’s chin quivered, her illusions of her dead fiancé shattered to bits at her feet. “Tom did this?” She waved her hand toward the altar behind her.

  “Yes,” Jake answered. “Twice. The second year, he made the deal when you were chosen. He died a couple of weeks later.” Jake exchanged a look with Bill. “He loved you,” he added, and looked back at Jennifer.

  Jennifer’s face formed into a mask of anger. “Don’t tell me he loved me,” she shouted. “Anybody who does this doesn’t have the faintest idea what love is.” She started to shake again.

  Bill looked up at the stained glass window. “Time to go,” he said, interrupting the conversation. He lumbered across the pentacle and reached for her.

  No fucking way! She blocked him and sent a roundhouse kick into his ribs.

  “Cut the shit!” Jake snapped.

  Jennifer shot her gaze in the direction of the voice and deflated. The edge of the blade dug into Steve’s throat, tearing the skin, and another thin trickle of blood ran down his neck. Bill grabbed her by the hair and threw her against the altar, knocking the wind out of her.

  He retrieved a length of rope and the box of condoms from behind the stone, slamming the box down next to her as he stood behind her. He grabbed her wrists and tied them behind her back, then pressed his body against her, pushing her farther onto the hard rock as he reached around and squeezed her breasts. “I could fuck you all night.” He licked her cheek. “Maybe I’ll have time for one more before I leave you to the beast.”

  He stepped back, pulling her to him and yanking the shirt higher up her waist. He forced his fingers between her legs. “Oh yeah, I’ll definitely have another for the road.”

  She screamed and struggled in his grip. Bill twirled her around and a patch of duct tape that Jake pasted over her lips shut off the noise careening out of her mouth.

  Jerked toward the now open doors of the crypt, and the van just beyond, the world swam before Jennifer’s eyes, altering.

  A young man, barely eighteen, walked into the clearing with a Polaroid camera. He was fairly good-looking, with blond hair and deep blue eyes. He snapped the picture nonchalantly and stepped back into the woods, waving the picture so it would dry. He looked at the print in his hand and froze. The claws ripped straight through his body, killing him instantly.

  Jennifer screamed under the tape, her focus back inside the van. Her eyes darted frantically around until they landed on Steve. Her breath hitched in her chest as she struggled to breathe through her nose.

  He leaned against her. “I’m here,” he whispered, calming her a little. The men had shed the robes and put their clothing back on while Jennifer was trapped in her vision and she was thankful.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Bill snapped at her and she stared back, concentrating on pulling enough air through her nose so she didn’t pass out.

  Steve glared at him as the van rocked over the uneven cemetery path to the lake. “Do you have any idea what the penalty is for killing a federal officer?” he asked, and looked around the van.

  No one spoke. They just glanced at each other. Jennifer watched their reaction hoping Steve could find a chink in their armor.

  “And New Hampshire does have the death penalty,” Steve remarked.

  “Shut up!” Bill roared, and punched Steve in the mouth.

  Steve fell back against the door, laughing and spitting blood from his mouth.

  Bill rubbed his knuckles. “If they find any trace of either of you, it will be in pieces. And it won’t trace back to us.” He grinned. “It never does.”

  “Then why was I planted in your fraternity?” Steve asked, situating himself back on his knees next to Jennifer.

  Bill chewed on his lip and looked around the van at the others, his fraternity brothers, partners in crime, and sighed. “Why did they place you undercover?” he finally asked. “Seems to me they sent you on a fishing trip. You have no evidence that directly relates to us.”

  Steve smiled. “I have plenty of evidence after today.”

  “You won’t live to see the sun rise,” Bill shot back. “So there goes your evidence.”

  “Did you know they have surveillance cameras in the apartment complex?” Steve tilted his head, playing his hand outright and Jennifer blinked.

  She didn’t even know they had surveillance cameras. That would place Bill at the apartment when Tracy died and show him abducting her. Under the tape, her lips spread into a smile. The bastard wouldn’t
get away with this.

  Bill sat back. “Bullshit,” he said without conviction.

  Steve shrugged. “Think what you want. It is what it is.”

  This time no one met his gaze when he looked around. He sat back against the opposite side of the van, silently assessing Steve. “Did you know he was a cop?” he asked her after a few minutes.

  Jennifer didn’t acknowledge his question. She didn’t even look in his direction.

  Bill grabbed her by the front of the shirt and hauled her across the van. “Did you know?” he asked when her face was directly in front of him.

  She narrowed her eyes, meeting his angry glare.

  “Leave her alone. She didn’t know at first either,” Steve answered.

  “Did Tracy?” Bill asked Jennifer.

  She shook her head and Steve voiced her answer.

  “No. She was just as clueless as you were.”

  “I wasn’t talking to you.” Bill glared over at Steve and then focused his attention back at her. “You realize Tracy is dead because of you?”

  “Bastard!” she hissed behind the tape. Her eyes filled with tears because at some level she knew he spoke the truth.

  “I told her I planned to fuck you,” he said. “You should have seen how angry she got.” He grabbed her breast through the shirt, squeezing.

  Pain flared as he squeezed and twisted her nipple and she tried to yank away but couldn’t. Bill grabbed her by the hair and let go of the shirt, moving his free hand up her leg. “It was funny,” he said, slamming his fist into her stomach. “She knew you wouldn’t let me touch you willingly.” His hand went between her legs, entering her roughly. “Why is that?”

  “Get your hands off her!” Steve yelled in vain.

  “Fuck off,” Bill shot over at Steve.

  Each painful blow brought her closer to the edge of fury and when he looked away, she took the opportunity to slam her head into his already-broken nose.

  “You bitch,” he yelled and slammed her down on the floor of the van, forcing his way between her legs.

  Between Steve’s curses and Bill’s mutterings, Jennifer felt the van swerve to the right. In the chaos, she heard Jake yell, “Clean—he wants her clean!” But Bill’s relentless thrusts tore her insides, forcing her breath through her nose and muffled screams from under the tape.

  Charlie and Joe hauled him off her.

  “Fucking bitch!” he yelled and scuttled away, zipping his jeans back up.

  Jennifer rolled onto her side and looked at Steve, tears blurring her vision, mixing with the wetness streaking his face and he tilted his head. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he glanced at Joe. “She’s having a tough time breathing. Can you at least take the tape off her mouth?”

  Joe looked in the rearview mirror at Jake.

  “It doesn’t matter. No one will hear her scream where we’re going.” He gave Joe a nod and he reached forward, ripping the tape from her mouth.

  Jennifer gasped, taking a great quantity of oxygen in with each breath drawn. Sobs mingled with each wheeze.

  “You’ll be dead before the sun comes up,” Bill growled.

  Jennifer turned her head away. Sobs ripped through her. She believed Bill—they would not see the sunrise, and he was right.

  Chapter 41

  The van pulled off the smooth road onto a divot-filled dirt road, stopping a few hundred yards in. Steve traded a glance with Jennifer and the group shuffled out the side of the van, leaving only Jake, Bill and Joe in the back with them.

  “Wait up, Stan,” Bill called and shot a glare at Steve. “We’re going to need you to stay with us.”

  Steve almost laughed at the nervous twitch those words caused in the lanky sophomore. He moved his gaze back to Bill. “Where’d everyone go?”

  “To the camp site,” he said and a smirk appeared. “We have to get her to Black Cove.”

  Before Steve could process the significance of the location, Bill grabbed Jennifer and held the dagger to her throat. “Cut his legs loose,” he said to Joe and then turned his gaze to Steve. “If you so much as flinch, I’ll kill her.”

  Joe flipped open a switchblade and cut the rope around Steve’s feet.

  Standing, he let out a hiss of pain, almost falling back down as his legs cramped. Slowly straightening, he flexed one foot and then the other, stretching the tight muscles in his calves and glaring at Bill. His mind swarmed with escape scenarios. The odds were more favorable with four of them, especially since the drugs had long since filtered through his system. The only problem was the knife against Jennifer’s throat. His gaze locked on hers for the briefest instant before Jake grabbed her arm, pulling her away from Bill and the blade in one smooth move.

  Steve got a glimpse of the gun tucked neatly in the back of Jake’s waistband and a flicker of hope flared. One bullet—that’s all he would need to stop this madness.

  Jake led the way, dragging Jennifer over the tree roots and sharp underbrush, ignoring her wincing complaints until she stopped and tried to yank away. Bill stepped to intervene, but Jake was quicker and flipped her over his shoulder, carrying her like a sack of concrete.

  Even though he was sandwiched between Joe and Stan, Steve used her abrupt diversion to slide the key to his handcuffs out of his pocket, palming it before their attention returned to him. When the line moved forward, Steve said, “At least tell me why.”

  “It’s been here since the dawn of time,” Jake began.

  Steve snorted. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked, certain they only knew half of the information he uncovered just by Jake’s comment.

  “The thing you saw in the crypt.”

  Steve was quiet for a few paces, sliding the key into the locking mechanism. “You don’t know shit,” he said, turning the key as he spoke to cover up the slight click of the cuffs’ release.

  Joe glanced back at Steve. “We know it requires a sacrifice each year in order to keep it within the confines of Black Cove.”

  “What a crock of shit,” Steve said. He thought of the little girl found in the woods almost a half mile away from the area they were heading.

  Bill spun around. He grabbed Steve by the throat, pulling him close.

  “Chill, Bill. He’ll find out soon enough,” Stan said from behind Steve.

  Bill let him go and turned back, passing Joe and continuing behind Jake.

  Steve didn’t follow immediately. He waited until both Bill and Joe were at least ten paces ahead and then took a couple of steps and stumbled, falling on his hands and knees. “Shit,” he mumbled and shuffled to his feet, keeping an eye on Joe as he slid the knife out of his boot, palming it on the inside of his wrist, out of sight. Joe turned away from Steve, following Bill and Jake, chuckling. When Stan pushed him forward, Steve spun, twisting the blade in his grip and burying it through Stan’s larynx and ripping through flesh and arteries in a violent tug. With his free hand, he covered Stan’s mouth, quieting the gurgle. The gaping wound drenched Steve with blood, and he watched the shock in Stan’s eyes transition to death. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed only darkness on the path before him, the curve hiding their presence. He laid Stan carefully on the ground, hurrying to catch up. Stumbling down the path in the direction they’d disappeared, he made enough noise to sound like two people.

  It was dark enough that the group wouldn’t have been able to make out Stan even if he’d been there, but it worked both ways. In his rush to catch up, he nearly collided with Joe. He pulled up at the last second when the shadow in front of him turned, revealing a pale face in the darkness.

  “Nice trip?” Joe asked, his voice edged with sarcastic humor.

  “Fuck you,” Steve said and listened for the front of the pack. Their footfalls were farther along the path, a good ten to fifteen feet, and he focused back on Joe. “Why rape?” he asked.

  “It’s part of the initiation,” Joe answered. “Fuck ’em any-whic
h-way we can and then he gets her.” His voice trembled and Steve heard the distinct sound of a swallow. “When he’s done, they’re usually in pieces.”

  He could make out another bend in the path and knew it was now or never. He gripped the knife in both hands. Raising it high in the air, he plunged it into the back of Joe’s neck, severing the spinal cord with a snap that could have been mistaken for a twig. He caught Joe’s limp body before it hit the ground and quietly set him down. With a deep inhale, he yanked the knife from the body. His stomach lurched, but he pushed the sensation aside. He didn’t have time to get sick and he certainly didn’t have time to mourn Joe or examine his actions. He knew that would come later and he’d pay for it in spades, but for now, he had to get Jennifer away from Bill and Jake.

  Hustling forward, he slid around the bend just in time to see Jake enter an opening in the woods. He quickly put his hands behind his back with the knife in his grip. He stopped at the opening, taking in the cove. Jennifer was right—this is as desolate and cold as you can get.

  Jake threw Jennifer down in the center of the pentacle carved in dead moss, and turned towards the wood line. He pulled the dagger out, tossed it to Bill, and then knelt, putting the sharp edge of his hunting knife to her throat.

  “Where are Stan and Joe?” Bill asked, stepping closer to Jennifer.

  Steve smiled. “Probably roasting in hell right about now,” he answered, looking squarely at Jake.

  Bill threw the dagger and it hit Steve half an inch away from his open wound, sending him back a couple of steps. Pain gripped him and he realized too late that his hands and the knife had come into full view, and he lost his element of surprise. “Fuck!”

  “No!” Jennifer screamed.

  “Do you want her to die right this second?” Jake shouted, gaining Steve’s attention. “Drop the knife and get your ass over here.”

  He dropped the knife immediately and reached for the dagger, muttering under his breath.

  “Don’t touch that,” Jake warned.