Varick's Quest (Devya's Children Book 4)

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Varick's Quest (Devya's Children Book 4) Page 10

by Gilbert,Julie C.


  The man’s youthful, cheery voice made me freeze. I disliked him before I laid eyes on him. My mind scrambled through possible responses and came up blank. My scowl must have convinced him that I didn’t consider this a social call.

  His compassionate expression did little to ease my contempt.

  “I know this is hard for you, and I apologize for the precautions we’ve had to take. If you’ll give me your word of cooperation, I’ll have Ethan remove the bindings.”

  Feeling like the man had stolen his script from a bad movie, I forced my jaw to unclench enough to speak.

  “Is Ethan still holding the controller for the evil thing around my neck?”

  “Temperantia?”

  “Temper-what?” I’d obviously derailed his expected speech and he returned the favor.

  “The necklace. Temperantia,” Lanier supplied. He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. The papa-like pride in his voice told me he had probably invented and named the thing himself. “It means ‘self-control’ in Latin.”

  Thinking, Swell. Names with meanings again., I said, “Yes, that. Would you please have him remove it?” My voice wavered with the struggle to make it a request.

  “She looks lovely on you,” Lanier complimented.

  “She makes me nervous.”

  Lanier gestured for patience.

  “Let’s leave her on for now. We can return to the discussion in a few days. I was referring to the wrists restraints. Would you like them removed?”

  Swallowing a yes, please response, I asked, “What will it cost?”

  “Cost?” Lanier repeated. His eyebrows leapt upward.

  “Of course, I want the zip tie off, but what sort of cooperation are you looking for?”

  “Ah, you wish to know why you’re here,” Lanier said cordially. “Ethan, please explain Miss Matheson’s role to her.”

  “The Soldier and the Dreamer must rescue the Minder from dangerous men,” explained Ethan.

  They’d lost me. The “Soldier” had to be Varick, and the “Dreamer” had to be Jillian. I didn’t want to think about them for fear I’d start crying. I swiveled around to eye Ethan before turning back to Lanier.

  “Varick and Jillian would rescue Nadia regardless.”

  “I need them to bring her here.” Lanier’s voice took on a dreamy quality as he continued, “Dr. Devya will need the Minder to continue his good work.”

  “Devya’s here?” I blurted. My heart skipped a beat, though I couldn’t tell you if it was from fear or excitement.

  “Dr. Devya will come,” Ethan clarified.

  The implication forced me to forget my own troubles.

  “Who will he come for? It’s not me.” Devya was the first wacko to think of me as a useful hostage. I’d have a better chance of winning the lottery, getting hit by lightning, and drowning on the same day than Devya trading himself for me.

  “Our other guest,” Lanier answered. He plucked a remote from the rubbish on his desk and pressed a few buttons.

  A large screen slowly descended behind Lanier’s desk. A few seconds later, I was watching a security video of Cora sitting in a jail-like cell. The sight triggered an odd series of emotions. A small part of me enjoyed the irony as the woman practically ran much of Devya’s operation where people interactions—including prisoners—were concerned. That petty feeling got blasted by fear. Lanier’s operation paled in comparison to Devya’s, but if he could get to Cora, he had a lot more power than I gave him credit for. Finally, cooling resolve settled into place. These people definitely needed to be retaught basic things like how to treat other humans.

  “May I see her?” The soft question surprised everybody, me most of all.

  “Perhaps tomorrow,” said Lanier. “You should eat and rest. When the Dreamer arrives, I will have another role for you to fulfill.”

  “Jillian’s coming here.” The statement contained hope and pain. For the first time since entering Lanier’s mad mansion, I had to blink back tears.

  Smiling, Lanier nodded.

  “My men should deliver her tomorrow. I will see that you get a chance to talk to her before she begins working. Now, do I have your word not to attempt an escape?”

  “Where would I go?” My frustration needed no feigning, but I played up the sense of futility.

  Lanier seemed unsure about whether my question qualified as giving my word, but he eventually motioned for Ethan to cut the zip tie.

  Ethan then took me on a brief tour of the important places like my personal jail cell, a few empty cells, the restroom, and the tiny gym. The entire prison section was locked and featured an armed guard, but the key to my personal cell was to remain in the door until nighttime so I could move “freely” throughout the day.

  The Prisoner,

  Danielle Matheson.

  Chapter 17:

  A Twisted Gift

  ITEM 200: Jillian’s 99th post-kidnapping journal entry

  Item Source: Jillian Blairington

  Mr. Jones shook me awake as we neared the place where I’d sensed Cora’s dreams. The driver had stopped the SUV. I still didn’t know his name. Nobody had told me and the main way for me to find out woulda been to read it in one of his dreams. The information wasn’t worth dying to get so I let him alone.

  “Unbuckle the seat belt and hold out your wrists.”

  Not liking the sound of that, I reluctantly followed Mr. Jones’s instructions. He slipped a zip tie around each wrist individually then looped a third through the pair of ’em to keep my wrists locked about two inches apart from each other. I gave him a curious look as he used pocket knife scissors to trim the long ends of the zip ties.

  “We have protocols to follow,” Mr. Jones explained in response to my unspoken question.

  “Why’d ya wait until now?” I only had a vague idea of what protocol meant, but it seemed pointless to wait until we practically reached the destination to bother with tying my wrists together.

  “You’ll have to ask our boss about the prisoner protocols if you really want an answer,” said Mr. Jones. He leaned around me to reapply the seat belt then tucked the shoulder part behind my back so it wouldn’t cut across my neck weird due to the position my hands needed to stay in.

  “Who’s your boss?”

  The question drew a laugh from the driver.

  “You’ll meet him in a few minutes. He has a gift for you.”

  Making sure my arms weren’t in the way, Mr. Jones slammed the door.

  I didn’t ask what sort of gift awaited me ’cause I knew these men worked for somebody with a warped spirit. Normal people don’t threaten to take babies away from mommas. Dr. Devya might order something like that, but everything felt like a different hand guided the events.

  Even though I refused to ask, the mystery gift bothered me. In a question of person vs. object, I concluded that the chances were fifty-fifty for the gift being either. I spent about a minute puzzling what sort of object might qualify as a gift. A new phone would be nice, seeing as Mr. Jones had tossed mine out on a highway somewhere, but that would actually be a good gift. A message from Momma saying she was all right would also be nice, but if I wished for that, I might as well wish myself to Momma’s side. When I switched over to people, I thought it might mean Cora or Dustin, since they were likely together and Cora was definitely nearby.

  Before I finished worrying my way through the list of possible gifts, the driver pulled through a big metal gate onto a long, stone-filled driveway. An uneasy feeling crawled through my stomach as the largest house I’ve ever seen filled the front windshield. Mr. Jones urged the driver to pull into the far left garage door. At the press of a button, the door yawned open to swallow us. My uneasy feeling got worse when Mr. Jones hit the door button again and it rumbled closed.

  I concentrated on keeping my breaths coming steadily as Mr. Jones opened my door, released the seat belt, and helped me down.

  “Thank you,” I murmured. When I asked Nana about being polite in ho
stile situations, she said manners could mend many fences. She also said being polite was about showing others the good in one’s soul. I figure that means I ought to always be polite.

  The driver walked up holding a thick black blindfold.

  “Let him put that on you,” said Mr. Jones. He grasped the plastic cuff linking my wrists together.

  “What for?” I demanded. My heart beat harder at the thought of walking through this giant mansion blind.

  “So we can show you the gift.” The driver somehow made that statement worrisome.

  My shoulders tensed, but I managed to keep still as the driver fit the soft black cloth over my eyes and tied a knot at the back of my head. I thought I might be able to see a little through the crack at the bottom, but the blindfold was of a higher quality than any that I’d experienced before. My mind wandered back to when Varick had blindfolded me with some of Maisha’s placemats so my siblings could show me the cylinders where we were born. The memory got me past the first few scary moments when Mr. Jones held my left elbow and led me out of the garage.

  I closed my eyes and let him lead, knowing that some of my questions would be answered when we got wherever we were going. The gift thing still worried me, but I sorta wanted to meet the man who had gone to so much trouble to summon me. Hopefully, I could finish the task he had in mind and get back to my other problems like Nadia, my scattered family, and Danielle’s disappearance.

  Varick woulda scolded me for not keeping track of the number of steps and the direction we walked. My head buzzed with too many worries to think about escape. I figured I’d get a feel for the place later from the dreams of the workers. There had to be workers. No place like this could function without an army of help.

  At last, Mr. Jones pulled me to a stop, and said, “Kneel.”

  Sudden pressure on my shoulders and the backs of my knees dropped me to the ground. I tipped forward and instinctively braced myself with my hands. I wanted to climb back to my feet or complain about the treatment, but something told me that answers would come quicker if I kept still.

  “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to meet you, Ashlynn.” The man’s statement, spoken with quiet admiration, frightened me.

  “What do you want from me?” I didn’t really expect an answer, but I suspected the sooner we got that question out there, the better.

  “Right now, it’s more a question of what you want from me,” answered the man. He wanted me to ask the obvious question.

  It finally dawned on me that the kidnapping, the cuffs, the blindfold, the mystery gift, and everything else formed a game to this man. I hated myself for playing his stupid game, but I couldn’t see another way of moving the situation along. Staying here would only hurt my knees.

  “What do you have that I want?”

  “I’m glad you asked,” said the man. “Gentlemen, please remove the blindfold.”

  When the blindfold was whipped away, I ducked my head, blinked furiously, and rubbed at my eyes.

  “I am Dr. Caleb Lanier, and this is my gift to you, Ashlynn.”

  His words made me clench my eyes shut and wish I could keep ’em shut forever.

  “Look at her.”

  Despite the desire to disobey, my eyes snapped open and fixed on Dr. Lanier’s gift. Danielle wore zip ties around her wrists which rested in her lap and her ankles which were linked to the thin beam running along the front of the chair. White rope wrapped around her waist a dozen times, holding her upright in the chair even as her head slumped toward her right shoulder. More rope held her knees together and to the chair. A piece of duct tape kept her lips shut, and a thick, black blindfold covered her eyes.

  I struggled to rise, but hands on each of my shoulders kept me kneeling. My legs began burning from holding one position so I sat with my legs tucked under to relieve the pressure. I used my bound hands to keep my balance. This definitely wasn’t what I’d meant when I told Katy I’d find Danielle. Worry and anger made my head spin.

  “Before you untie your gift, I need to explain something,” said Dr. Lanier. “Are you listening?”

  Since I probably looked ready to pass out, it was a fair question. To be honest, I had trouble focusing on Dr. Lanier’s words. The emotions of the day were building up inside and choking me. Several deep breaths steadied me but only barely. A few frustrated tears slipped out, but I made myself nod for Dr. Lanier to continue.

  “Mr. Jones and Mr. Clark will release you shortly. Near your friend, you will find a needle containing a reviving agent to counter the sedative I’ve given her. You will also find some scissors and a switchblade to aid you in releasing her.”

  Mention of the weapon surprised me.

  Dr. Lanier held up his right hand in a stopping motion.

  “Lest you be tempted to turn the blade against us, please note the necklace your friend wears.” He waited until I followed the instruction.

  A thin, silver chain looped around Danielle’s neck holding a round black metal piece over her heart. The design wasn’t exactly something I’d pay money for, but it didn’t look dangerous.

  “The piece she wears is called Temperantia, which is Latin for ‘self-control.’ If you act against us in any way, a security agent will release a neurotoxin directly into your friend. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” When Dr. Lanier motioned for me to continue, I added, “If I attack you, Danielle will die.” I forced the painful words out.

  “Good. There are only a few more details to cover then.” Dr. Lanier paused then continued in a slower, more deliberate manner. “By releasing your friend, you effectively volunteer her to take part in your training here.”

  My head started shaking before he finished. I pushed myself to a more upright kneeling position.

  “I can’t do that. She’ll have to decide for herself.”

  Dr. Lanier considered my words then nodded like a king granting a request.

  “Shall we see what she has to say then?”

  When I agreed, Dr. Lanier had Mr. Jones and Mr. Clark, the former driver, cut me loose and help me stand. I had to lean on Mr. Jones as I staggered over to Danielle ’cause I didn’t wanna wait for my legs to work.

  At Dr. Lanier’s suggestion, I started by giving Danielle the shot that would wake her up. Next, I used the switchblade to saw through the ropes holding her legs to the front beam. The scissors worked best for the plastic ties around her ankles and wrists.

  “Let the blindfold be her choice,” called Dr. Lanier. He’d walked a few steps away to give me room to work. “If she removes the blindfold, she agrees to participate in your training. If she keeps it on, I will find another subject for you to practice with.”

  “What am I practicing?” I wondered, stopping my efforts to cut through the ropes keeping Danielle upright in the chair. He made it sound like I was gonna shoot at her with real bullets.

  “That will be explained later.”

  The answer was highly unsatisfactory, but a low moan from Danielle caught my attention. Her arms weren’t quite free yet, but even so, her right hand reached for the blindfold. Grabbing both of her hands, I held ’em together and knelt in front of her, speaking low and fast.

  “Danielle, listen to me. You gotta keep the blindfold on a while longer. Keep it on until you understand what’s being asked of ya. Give yourself time to wake up and think about it.”

  She mumbled something that got lost in the duct tape.

  “I’m gonna have to release your hands to take off the tape, but you have to promise to leave the blindfold on for now. Ya hear?” I blame the late hour for waiting a second to hear her response. “Squeeze my hands twice if you understand to leave the blindfold on.”

  Danielle’s grip wasn’t very strong, but she squeezed my hands twice as asked.

  Slowly, I released her hands, stood up, and reached for the tape, wincing at the brief pain I’d cause her. After carefully peeling back one corner, I got a better grip on the tape and braced Danielle’s head with my other hand
. The duct tape tore free with a ripping noise.

  Danielle made a face but bore the pain in silence. She moved her jaw in a slow circle and brushed at her chin with her right hand.

  “Please say something.”

  “Ouch.” Danielle smiled weakly to let me know she was glad to have me near. “Quit slacking on the rope cutting. I want out of this blasted chair. And why am I keeping the blindfold on?”

  I explained again as I sawed through the last of the ropes. When the ropes dropped free, Danielle reached for the blindfold.

  I caught her hands.

  “Please keep it on. It’s gonna be dangerous. Dr. Lanier says he can find somebody else.”

  “I wouldn’t wish this place on anybody,” Danielle murmured, freeing her hands. “Besides, I’ve got to stay close to you if I want to keep you out of trouble.” Danielle whipped off the blindfold and tossed it to the ground. Light made tears pool in her eyes, and she blinked several times then squinted at me. Tapping her palms on her lap, she said, “Come sit. I need a hug and I can’t get up.”

  “We’re gonna break the chair,” I told her.

  Laughing a little, I climbed into her lap. The chair creaked under my added weight, so I hopped up and helped Danielle sit on the floor. Then, I gave her the hug we both needed.

  Chapter 18:

  Facing Fears

  ITEM 201: Danielle’s fifty-seventh letter

  Item Source: Danielle Matheson

  Dear Dr. S.,

  Jillian’s here. The thought’s tearing me in two directions. Her presence is a huge comfort, but I’m nervous about what’s to come. Our reunion was sweet but overly dramatic, something I’m coming to expect from these people. Lanier’s men have taken her somewhere to explain the first of what he calls “advanced training modules.” They insisted on binding her wrists to even walk her out of the room. That tells me it’s not about the fear she might escape, but an indignity inflicted to reinforce their power. I can’t begin to imagine what Lanier would consider dangerous enough to give me an out.

  I told you the man has an unhealthy obsession with Devya. His feelings go deeper than admiration to competition. He doesn’t envision Devya as a man but rather an ideal and an idol.

 

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