Requiem & Reverie (The Sandman Duet Book 2)

by Keri Lake

  “Well, if it isn’t Clark fucking Kent coming to save the day.”

  “Let her go, or I’ll splatter your brains across the wall.”

  A wave of relief moves through me at the sound of his cheesy words, and I steal the opportunity to wriggle myself loose.

  Wiping tears from my cheeks, I rush toward Simon, who pulls me against him. Out of harm’s way, once the fog inside my head clears, the true oddity of Simon’s presence finally hits me. That he found me in this remote place.

  I take a step back, frowning. “Simon, what are you doing here?”

  It suddenly occurs to me that Dale might be dead.

  The stranger who licked me bursts into laughter and sets his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “Splatter your brains across the wall. That’s good.”

  Simon sneers and shakes his head. A loud pop follows, echoing through the garage, and the man who held his hand over my mouth slaps that same hand to his arm, wailing in pain.

  “You fuckin’ shot me!”

  “I told you not to touch her that way.”

  The one named Duane, who I managed to cut earlier, cocks a shotgun and aims it right at Simon. “That’s gonna cost you extra, asshole,” he says.

  “I’d say we’re even now.” Lowering his gun, Simon ends the standoff between them, and the other man follows suit, lowering his rifle, as well. “I specifically asked you not to touch her.”

  “You didn’t say she was fucking hot, though. I’d have let you keep your damn cash, had I known.”

  The cold numbness from before wraps around my lungs like a tight fist, as realization dawns on me, and I spin toward the door, but at something jabbing me in the back, I freeze.

  “One shot into your spinal column, and I could paralyze you.”

  “Where is my son?”

  “I’ll take you to him, if you’d like. But first, you’re going to empty your pockets and hand me your phone.”

  Swallowing a harsh gulp, I stuff my hands into my coat pockets and hold my phone over my head.

  It’s swiped out of my hands, and the crashing sound that follows tells me he’s smashed it against the concrete. “C’mon, Nola. I’m not stupid. The spray, as well.”

  Reaching in again, I pass back the pepper spray, leaving myself totally defenseless.

  A nudge from behind urges me forward, and I stumble toward the door.

  “You can send her back here when you’re done with her. We’ll take her to the club. Get her acquainted with all my brethren,” Duane says from behind, and he laughs, as I push through the glass door.

  A thousand thoughts race through my head. I could run, but he’d shoot me. Even if he didn’t, the invalids back at the garage might try to run me down like something out of Wrong Turn.

  None of that will get me to my son.

  Simon forces me out of the building, the gun pressed into my back, until we reach his car. He opens the door for me, and I fall into the passenger seat.

  The feeling pummeling through me is a mixture of surprise, sadness, and anger. Betrayal. Absolute betrayal that, once again, leaves me feeling like I can’t trust my own instincts, anymore.

  With the gun set in his lap and pointed at me, he takes off down the open, dark road.

  “I don’t understand, Simon. Why? Why would you do this?”

  He glances toward me and back to the road. “I like you, Nola.”

  “You have a shitty way of showing it.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Is Oliver … alive?”

  “For now.”

  The relief of that is more than I can express, more than I want to explore right now, so I tuck it away. “Is Dale in on this?”

  Snorting a laugh, he shakes his head. “Dale isn’t smart enough.”

  “Is he dead? You used his phone to text me, right? Did you kill him?”

  He huffs, as though he’s getting bored with my questions. “No. I stole his phone this afternoon.”

  “You killed …. You killed those women, though. Why?”

  “I didn’t kill them. I’m not a murderer. I made them better. Pure.”

  “You … fucking … killed them!”

  Rolling his shoulders back, he keeps his gaze forward. “I suggest you keep your voice down. It’s unbecoming of a woman to yell at her superior.”

  I have to bite my lip to keep from snapping back at him again. I don’t want to piss him off and risk he’ll not take me to my son. “Why did you do it? Why did you take my son?”

  “You’ll see.”

  His responses are only goading my irritation, and I turn away to keep from saying something that will surely set him off. Open fields of farmland, lit only by the moon, pass by the window. “Who are you, Simon? How does any of this have anything to do with me?”

  The moment I turn my head, something pricks my neck, and a warm, fuzzy feeling settles over me, weakening my muscles. I slump against the passenger door, unable to hold myself up. Alarms go off inside of me, as Simon withdraws a needle from my neck that’s since gone numb.

  “No more questions, Nola. I promise everything will come to light. Soon.”

  21

  Voss

  The directions lead me to some strange little town that modern society must’ve forgotten about. I turn my car into the mechanic shop at the end of the road, where I perform a quick weapons check, slipping a new magazine into my Glock and clipping the push dagger horizontally to my belt.

  Carl isn’t here. I know that because he isn’t stupid enough to leave an address where I might find it, and he sure as hell wouldn’t stick around long enough for me to catch him. But the location is a trap, and my guess is that Nola’s car is here, somewhere. I set my hand on the handle of the entrance to the place, but pause on seeing a bell on the other side, through the window. Rerouting, I round the building, Glock leading the way, to three bays inside, one of which has been left cracked open. Approaching the door, I pad quietly, listening to the voices from inside the building.

  “Quit fiddlefucking around. It’s just a graze. I’m fine.”

  “I’m just telling you. My uncle thought a bullet grazed him, when it really went through the skin, and he ended up dying from some bad infection.”

  “Yeah well, your uncle was a drunk who probably couldn’t feel his own dick from a hot dog.”

  “Man, fuck you.”

  Lying flat on the concrete, I peer inside, catching sight of boots past the undercarriage of a vehicle that’s parked in front of the door. The gap is just wide enough to slide beneath, and I army crawl into the garage, to the other side of a vehicle, realizing that it’s Nola’s white Jeep. Peering around the edge of the car, I see two men, one about my height with peppered hair, the other slightly shorter and chubbier. The taller one has a square of gauze taped to his bicep, red bleeding through it.

  A fresh wound, no doubt.

  The other, shorter one, tosses medical supplies into a box, wearing a patch of gauze on his arm, too.

  I fire a warning shot that whizzes past the taller one, hitting a hub cap behind him with a loud ping.

  “’The fuck!” The man stumbles back, as the clang rattles and echoes inside the building.

  Coming out from my hiding place, I aim the gun at the short one, who slowly raises his hands up into the air.

  “You lost, friend?” the tall one asks. He nabs a shotgun from the desk beside him, but before he can line up a shot, I nail a bullet in his hand.

  “Motherfucker!” he says, dropping the rifle to the ground.

  “The Jeep behind me belongs to a woman,” I say, ignoring his moans of agony. You’re going to tell me where she is, or I’m going to put a bullet through his skull.”

  “That Jeep don’t belong … to no woman. Guy brought it in … a couple days ago. Transmission went out.”

  “You’re lying. But I’ll let that one slide.” I advance just enough to kick the shotgun out of his reach, then back away once more. “Now, tell me where she is.”

  “Alrea
dy told ya—”

  I aim low and pull the trigger, nailing the short one’s leg, and a scream bounces off the walls inside the garage. “I missed.”

  “Look, friend, you can fill us both up with lead. I’m not saying a fucking word.”

  I tip my head and smile. “Is that so?”

  In two shots, I take out both his knees, and the bastard drops to the floor. His screams reverberate as I pull my push blade, and in four quick strides, I’m close enough to grab the shorter one by the back of his neck and stab a hole in his cheek.

  Another scream.

  He falls, clutching his bloody cheek, and I slice the blade across his throat.

  A sharp pain strikes my calf, the burn traveling up the back of my knee, as I stare down at the knife lodged into my leg. Yanking it from my flesh, I turn to where the taller man claws at the concrete to get away from me. Nabbing his ankle, I tug him toward me, and he flips onto his back.

  “I don’t think you know what you’re doing, man. Two of us are members of the Devil’s Disciples.”

  I know about the ruthless gang that operates out of Chicago. Unfortunately for him, I give as much of a shit about the Devil’s Disciples as he probably does that his zipper is down right now.

  “You kill me, and they’ll be on your ass like flies on shit.”

  “Well …” My gaze lowers to his name tag and back. “Duane. I’ll take my chances with the Devil’s Disciples.” Dragging him back through the garage, I feel him clawing at my arm to get away. A car with no tires sits cockeyed, hoisted up on a hydraulic jack, whose arm is stuck out from the side behind the front wheel bearing.

  I push him beneath the car, and he wriggles his upper body to get away, his legs completely useless.

  “No! No!”

  “Talk.” With my shoe pressed against his chest, I hold him still and keep my hand on the jack. “Hold still now. Wouldn’t want to jostle my hand.”

  He planks beneath me. “Okay! Okay. Guy’s name is Simon Jeffries. He rents the Michael’s pole barn out on Adler Road.”

  “Who the fuck is the Michaels?”

  “They own the surrounding farmland. Simon does his taxidermy work there.”

  “And what part in this did you play?”

  “Simon said a chick would be stopping by tonight, looking for him. He paid us a hundred bucks each to keep her here until he arrived. Said she might try to drive off, if she got wise to him.”

  “So, you knew he was trying to abduct a girl, and you helped him, anyway.”

  “I-I-I don’t know about all that. Didn’t get into the details. He asked us for a favor, and we did it. We didn’t touch her, or nothing. Never laid a hand on her, at all.”

  “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Duane?”

  “N-n-no way, man. No fucking way I’d lie to you.”

  “Good. Because if I find out you’re lying, I’ll come back and finish you off.”

  He exhales a shaky breath. “I swear I’m not lying to you.”

  “Excellent. But just in case.” I push the handle of the jack, and the car comes slamming down on top of him.

  Blood and bits of bone spatter out from beneath, like I cracked open a watermelon. His arms and legs stiffen for one second before going completely still.

  “Lying prick,” I say, making my way back through the front of the building.

  22

  Nola

  Nausea gurgles in my stomach, as the overwhelming scent of plastic fills my sinuses. The incessant tug at my throat begs for air, and I suck in a sharp breath that fails to fully fill my lungs, opening my eyes to a strange room.

  Blinding light blasts my eyes, and I flinch at the chasing throb inside my skull. A naked bulb forms a halo around me, but I can just make out eyes staring back at me from stuffed animals set out around the room.

  The weight of exhaustion feels like a heavy blanket, clawing at me to return to the nothingness from before.

  A monotonous hum of what sounds like some kind of fan is nothing but white noise to the sound of my pulse hammering inside my ears. Confusion sticking to my brain, I mentally cut through the fog to the last memory I have, which is sitting in Simon’s car.

  Oh, God.

  My breaths are labored, and I realize there’s a long, black tube sticking out from my face.

  Pressure against my chest draws my attention to the fact that my limbs refuse to move at my will. I’m somehow upright, even though my feet aren’t touching the ground, and I angle my gaze just low enough to see I’m completely encased in some kind of plastic. A whimper escapes me, as I attempt to twist my arm, only to find it won’t move. I grunt and groan through the futile effort of wriggling myself free, but the material holding me is like a sticky web, and it seems the more I fight to get loose, the more it constricts around me. Breath whooshes out of me, the plastic material clinging to my nose on a sharp inhale, stirring the hysteria working its way through my bones.

  Panic crystalizes inside my chest, turning my insides cold, as I search my surroundings for Simon.

  Trailing my gaze over the room shows shelving units overflowing with plants and flowers. A bed is set off to the right of me, and beyond it, a wooden workbench. Against the wall stands what appears to be a kiln, though it’s difficult to make out in the shadows.

  The chill thick on the air and concrete floors tells me it isn’t a house, but some kind of outdoor structure. A pole barn, maybe. That’d make sense in the country.

  Where did he take me, though?

  And more importantly, where is Oliver?

  “Hello, Nola.” The sound of Simon’s voice skates up my spine, and I can’t seem to get enough air through the tube.

  My eyes bounce back and forth, looking for him in the darkness.

  “I know, I know. It’s a lot to take in. I imagine you have a million questions running through your head right now.” A figure steps into the halo of light, and my eyes widen at his appearance.

  Head to toe, his body shines with a layer of black latex. Only his lips are visible through the mask that clings to his skull like a second skin. If I didn’t recognize his voice, I doubt I’d identify him as Simon.

  My gaze lowers to his cock, also sheathed in black latex, sticking out from his thighs.

  Oh, God, no. Not this.

  “You’re a good girl for coming alone this time. I was afraid you’d break my rules twice, and then I’d have to take my frustrations out on Oliver. He misses you, you know.” He grabs hold of himself, mindlessly toying with his cock as he talks to me about my son. “Perhaps you’re wondering if he’s still alive. The answer is yes. And he will remain that way, so long as you cooperate and play along with me. Can you do that?”

  I give an emphatic nod, letting out a shaky exhale.

  He’s alive. My son is still alive! The joy of that is more than I can handle and with tears in my eyes I let out a relieved giggle.

  So long as Oliver remains safe, Simon can do whatever he wants to me.

  Simon’s lips stretch to a smile. “This is what I love about you, Nola. Not only are you a caring and vigilant mother, but you appreciate such simple joys. You’d be surprised how many children are left alone, unattended, but you …. Even when you’re working, you make the effort to watch him closely, with your brother, and your sister-in-law. Voss,” he adds with derision, as if the name alone leaves an acrid taste on his tongue. “It was nearly impossible for me to get my hands on the boy this whole time.”

  As he prattles on, my mind races with scenarios. If I can gain his trust, he might release me. My gaze swings back to the workbench, where below the desktop, on the floor, a box carries grisly looking tools I hope he doesn’t plan to use on me. I’m guessing, with the proximity of his stuffed animals, they’re used for taxidermy.

  Perhaps I can get to those.

  “I intend to retire after you, Nola. No more women. I’ve sown my seed, fucking all variety, but I will only offer my precious nectar to you. You will be my first. Do you understand the mag
nitude of this gift?”

  The thought of such a thing repulses me, but I nod to appease him. To get him to release me.

  “That’s good. You know, my mother used to tell me that no woman was ever good enough for me. No woman would ever be worthy of my seed.”

  Acids burn my sinuses as a round of bile shoots up my throat, and I swallow it back before it expels through the tube. This man is seriously fucked in the head, and I feel ashamed for not having seen it myself. For having focused on the superficial nature of his charm and allowing myself to be lured into friendship.

  “My nectar has powers, Nola. Its very essence can heal and purify you. It will turn your body into a vessel of virtue, so that you’ll not be denied in the afterlife. My mother was a whore since the age of sixteen, selling her body, just to get ahead in life. I cured her just before she passed. I made her pure again.”

  Insane. He is criminally insane and perverted beyond anything I’ve ever met in my life.

  I have to get loose, but without the ability to speak, I’m at a disadvantage. One I’m certain was intentional.

  “Speaking of essence, we don’t have much time. Daylight will arrive soon, so I’d like to get on with tonight’s activities.” Disappearing into the shadows once more, he flicks on another light, this one at the far end of the room, where I can now see the object set against the wall is a kiln, slightly larger than the one I have at home.

  Heart hammering in my chest, I wait with bated breath to see what role this plays in his little game.

  Setting a hand atop the lid, he turns to face me and smiles. “I don’t need to tell you what this is, do I, Nola? I also don’t need to tell you that this particular model happens to be large enough to fit your son.”

  My heart catches in my throat, eyes glued to his hand set against it, and I shake my head.

  No.

  “Don’t fret. As I said, so long as you play along, he’s safe. I’ve cracked the lid to allow him some air in there. He’s only sleeping, I promise. The same little concoction I gave you earlier.” He opens the lid slightly, and all I can see is the top of what must be Oliver’s head and his brown hair sticking up. “Now, here’s my question for you: would you choose to have your son burn in this kiln, or would you choose to let me fill you with my seed? To offer you the gift of purity.”