by Susan Stoker
He walked over to the cage she was in and squatted beside it. “You’re awake,” he said.
Allye rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help it. “And you’re the master of understatements,” she quipped.
His eyes narrowed. “Is that any way to talk to your master, Mystic?”
“You aren’t my anything,” she protested.
The man tsked as he shook his head. “I was so hoping you would be more cooperative.”
“Let me go,” she said, knowing he wouldn’t, but needing to say it anyway.
“No. You might as well get comfortable, as this is your new home for the foreseeable future.”
“You can’t do this! I have a life, friends. You can’t just kidnap me, lock me away, and tell me this is my new home.”
“I just did,” he said flatly.
“I don’t understand,” Allye said, desperate for answers. “If you could’ve kidnapped me in a taxi at any point, why put me on that stupid boat? Why go to so much trouble?”
Nightingale smirked. “I have a reputation to keep. I’m the Boss. The man behind the scenes. I only allow key personnel—those most loyal—to know which pets are my own. Where I keep them and how my operation works. Unfortunately, where you’re concerned, I’ve learned that if I want something done right, I have to do it myself. I made an exception for you, Mystic. You should feel honored that I came after you, and didn’t send my minions this time.”
“What do you want?” Allye asked, her voice quivering.
“You, Mystic. And I got you. You’re mine, and you can just forget about whoever you were cavorting with back in Colorado. You’ll never see him again—and I’ll have to punish you for daring to think you could be with anyone other than me.”
He stood then and headed back toward the door.
“Hey,” she called, “you can’t just leave me here! I need to use the restroom. And I’m thirsty.”
He turned at the door and shrugged. “Food and water are only for pets who behave. You, Mystic, haven’t earned them yet. As far as using the bathroom? When you’ve earned it, I’ll take you out of your crate. Until then, you can potty in the corner like the other smart animals.”
Allye looked to where he indicated with his head and saw some newspapers scattered on the floor. She stared back at him in horror.
He chuckled. “God, I love seeing that look in your beautiful eyes. Has anyone told you how unique you are? It’s why I had to have you, you know. With your one brown and one blue eye, and your hair . . . you’re a collector’s item. And now you belong to me. I wonder . . . are the color of your eyes genetic?”
She stared at him, not able to get one word past the lump in her throat.
“I’m betting they are. I’ve done some research. I guess we’ll find out with our first child, won’t we? Now be good. I’ll be back later with a special surprise.”
And with that, the man Allye knew had to be Nightingale shut the door behind him as he left, the sound of a lock clicking loudly in the bare room.
“Nooooo!” Allye wailed, sitting on her butt and kicking at the bars as hard as she could. All she managed to do was hurt the bottoms of her feet.
Interestingly enough, the tears she’d so easily shed earlier had dried up. She was more frightened than she’d ever been in her life, but the tears wouldn’t come. She had the morose thought that only Gray could make her cry. Lucky him.
She huddled in the corner of her crate and rocked back and forth. “Where are you, guys? I’m here. Come and get me.”
“The signal ended here,” Black said, looking through a pair of binoculars at the entrance to the San Rafael Exotic Animals Refuge. There were a few people still wandering around even though it was getting dark and the refuge was about to close.
The park contained at least a hundred different wild animals. Lions, tigers, hippopotami, giraffes . . . the list went on and on.
Ball, Black, Ro, Gray, and Arrow were staking out the refuge from a ridge about half a mile away. They were all lying on their bellies, camouflaged by the trees surrounding them, scoping out the last place the transmitter in Allye’s body had pinged.
“Isn’t this place too public to hold kidnapped women?” Ball asked. “I mean, there are people with cameras everywhere.”
“Look,” Gray said, pointing to the right at a truck pulling into a back entrance reserved only for refuge employees. “Look at the hangtag on the mirror.”
“Fuck me,” Arrow said in a low voice. “That’s a paw print on it, isn’t it? Just like the witness said he saw on the car the night Melany was found.”
“She’s here,” Gray said with conviction. “I can feel it.”
“But why isn’t the tracker transmitting?” Ro asked. “Meat said that it was pretty powerful, that there wasn’t much that could interfere with it.”
Gray put down his binoculars and turned to Ro. “Not much, but some things could. Like what?”
The others also put down their binoculars and concentrated on the conversation.
“Electromagnetic waves, mountains, large objects—any number of things could interfere with it. But that should only be for a short time. Not take it completely off-line like it is now,” Black said.
“What if she’s underground?” Gray asked slowly, picking his binoculars back up and scanning the property below them.
“Yeah, that could do it. Especially if it’s something like a bunker,” Ro added.
“Nightingale could’ve had something like that built under this place easily. And none of the guests walking overhead would have any idea it was there,” Ball said.
“I’ve been to one of these places before,” Arrow said. “There were actually underground tunnels and shit so the gamekeepers could get from one place to another, one cage to another, without endangering themselves or disturbing the animals.”
“There,” Gray said, and all the other men put their binoculars back up to their eyes to see where Gray was indicating. “See that gate there in the back? That’s where we need to make entry. After they’re closed. It looks like there’s a ramp that goes underground. See? Watch that van.”
They all watched as a van with the San Rafael Exotic Animals Refuge logo on the side went through an electric gate and disappeared down a ramp.
Gray inched backward until he was on the other side of the copse of trees, and stood. “Call Meat. Let him know.”
“We might need to wait until—”
Gray didn’t let Ball finish his sentence. “No. That psychopath has Allye. I’m not willing to wait another second longer than necessary. There’s no telling what he’s already done to her, or what he’ll do if we wait.”
Ball held up his hands in capitulation.
“Easy, Gray,” Black said in a low voice. “Ball’s not the one you’re pissed at.”
Gray took a deep breath and nodded. “I know. But I’ve played this game before. Nightingale’s going to use her boss to make Allye do what he wants.”
“Allye’s smart. She knows we’re coming for her. She isn’t going to do anything stupid.”
Gray hoped that was true. He knew how tenderhearted his Allye was. She’d put herself in danger if it meant helping someone else. Hell, she’d already done that. He just wasn’t sure how far Nightingale was willing to push her.
The men climbed into the two cars they’d driven up to the lookout point. Gray barely listened as the others planned the raid. He couldn’t forget the last time he’d seen Allye, with tears coursing down her cheeks. Tears she said she never shed. Tears she’d shed because of him.
Chapter Sixteen
Allye kept silent as Nightingale entered the room hours later. She was stiff and cold from sitting in one position for so long, and cold, and she badly had to pee. He calmly unlocked the door to her cage, and Allye didn’t make any sudden movements. She waited to see what he wanted from her.
“Out,” he ordered, snapping his fingers.
Hating him more than she’d hated anyone in her entire life, her
own mother included, Allye slowly crawled out of the cage. The second she was close enough, Nightingale fastened a wide leather collar around her throat. He pulled her upright by the leather and cinched it tight. Too tight.
Forgetting all about having to pee, more concerned about breathing, she choked and brought her hands up to the strip of leather.
He smacked at them. “Lower your hands.”
“Too tight,” she croaked.
He tightened it further, staring down at her passively as she gasped for air. Just when she thought she was going to pass out, he loosened it.
“You have no say from here on out. None. If I want your collar tighter, then it’ll be tighter. If I tell you to eat, you’ll eat. If I tell you to pee, you’ll pee. I own you, Mystic. You’re mine to do whatever I want with.”
She didn’t respond, simply glared up at him, hoping he could read the hate in her heart.
Allye wasn’t sure what he would do about her impertinence—but she hadn’t expected him to laugh.
“God, I could look into those beautiful eyes all fucking day. And they’re mine . . . all mine.” He fastened the collar, then brought out a small padlock and clicked it into place, effectively making sure she wouldn’t be able to remove or loosen the leather band of her own accord. Then he attached a leash to the ring at the front of the collar and reached up, fingering the shock of white hair on the side of her head.
“So beautiful and unique,” he said, stroking her hair. “After I saw you dance that first time, I briefly debated if I wanted to have you for my own. But then I saw you at the BDSM club I go to all the time. You were like a breath of fresh air. You turned down every man’s advances, and I knew then that I had to have you.”
Allye gasped. She didn’t remember seeing Nightingale at the club the night she’d ended up there with one of the other dancers. There was that pesky karma, having it in for her again. If she hadn’t gone that night, would any of this have happened?
Nightingale’s hand caressed her hair once more, and Allye wanted to jerk away from him, but with his hand on the leash, she knew she wouldn’t get far. Deciding it was probably better to pretend to be docile, she did nothing.
“That’s it, pet. Things will go much smoother if you do what I say, when I say.” And with that, he jerked down on the leash so hard, she cried out in pain and fell to her hands and knees on the unforgiving concrete floor.
The pain in her knees made tears come to her eyes, but Allye didn’t have time to recover because Nightingale was walking out of the room, still holding the leash. She had no choice but to crawl after him, as if she were an animal. It was either that or be dragged. And she had no doubt he would drag her if she didn’t cooperate.
Vowing vengeance with every inch she had to crawl, Allye tried to look around as they left the room. They went down a hallway about as wide as she was tall, with a series of floor-to-ceiling windows spaced evenly on her right side—and she stared in horror as they passed them.
Behind each window was a room identical to her own. One held a little person, a woman who was huddled in a corner, staring at them with eyes as dead as a corpse. Another held what Allye thought was a woman, but she had tattoos on every inch of her body. When Nightingale passed, the woman leaped up from where she was lying and attacked the window, clawing at it like she really was a wild creature. The whites of her eyes seemed especially bright with the black ink that covered her entire face, including her eyelids.
Nightingale only laughed and kept dragging Allye along.
Behind the next window was a beautiful blonde woman, but she was crying hysterically.
The asshole in front of her growled at seeing her tears. He turned back and explained briefly, “She’s upset because I had to put down her twin.” He shrugged. “It wasn’t working out, having them both. Besides, this one is much more docile. I like her better. But if she doesn’t stop her blubbering, I’ll give her a reason to fucking cry.”
Allye briefly closed her eyes as she crawled behind the insane man holding the leash. She didn’t want to see anything else. She couldn’t imagine the horrors any of these women had been through, and she definitely didn’t want to think about what he might have in store for her.
The man stopped at the next window, and Allye saw another naked woman. She was incredibly pale, and her hair was a beautiful white. She was wearing a collar much like Allye’s, and was inside a cage. “That’s my albino,” Nightingale said conversationally. “You and her are two of my most prized possessions. So rare and interesting. She’s pregnant,” he informed Allye. “I can’t wait to see if her baby is an albino like her. It’ll be fun to train a pet from the moment she’s born.”
“And if it’s a boy?” Allye asked quietly.
Nightingale shrugged. “Then I’ll give him to the tigers for a snack. I’ve no use for boys.”
Allye felt as if she was going to be sick. She’d only seen the four women, but knew Nightingale had probably arranged the selling of hundreds more. Maybe to people just like him, who were keeping the poor women in cages. Abusing them. Treating them like animals.
She was jerked along, and he kept talking. “Although I don’t think you should be so concerned with them, Mystic. You should be worrying about yourself. If you do exactly what I tell you, then you’ll be fine. Otherwise . . .” He shrugged and let his sentence trail off.
He kept walking until he reached a room at the far end of the corridor. “Are you ready, pet?” But he didn’t wait for an answer, throwing open the door and entering the large auditorium-type room.
Allye’s knees were thankful when the concrete floor changed to a plush red carpet. There were chairs on either side of an aisle, and what looked like a wooden stage in front of them. She kept crawling behind her kidnapper until he stopped in front of the stage. It was only about a foot higher than the floor.
“Up,” he ordered, and Allye carefully stood in front of him. Her knees were red and scraped, and she was having a hard time breathing with how tight the collar was cinched around her neck, but she didn’t say a word. She was biding her time. Hoping against hope that every minute she endured whatever this madman had planned was another minute she was closer to being rescued.
“I had this stage made just for you. The first time I saw you dance, I was entranced. After I saw you rebuff man after man in the BDSM club, I knew I had to have you for myself. I wanted you to dance just for me. I still remember the first piece I saw you perform onstage. The number was called ‘The Bride’s Sister.’ Do you remember that one?”
Allye nodded. It wasn’t one of her favorite shows because it involved a lot of costume changes and fast dance numbers, but she remembered it.
“Good, pet.” He unclipped the leash from the collar and put his hands around her waist.
Allye flinched at his clammy touch. She didn’t want him anywhere near her, let alone touching her.
He lifted her as if she weighed no more than a child. He might be older and overweight, but that didn’t seem to slow him down at all. He was incredibly strong. He placed her on the edge of the stage. The surface felt abrasive, not smooth like a stage should be. She looked down and saw that it was untreated wood.
“I’m going to get splinters,” she said quietly. “The wood is rough.”
“I know. It’ll give you incentive to dance beautifully the first time,” Nightingale said as he leaned into her. “Because if it’s not perfect, you’ll continue to dance. I don’t care if your feet are bloody nubs. You’ll do it until I’m satisfied. Understand?”
Allye drew her face away, but he caught her hair in his hand and tugged her head back. It was uncomfortable and made her feel extremely vulnerable. He licked her neck from above the collar to her ear, then whispered, “Dance, pet. And it had better be good.”
He dropped her hair and stepped back. Then nodded at someone off to his right.
Allye gasped when one of the men who’d moved her cage earlier stepped into the light holding on to Robin. She was naked
—and had a look of such pain in her eyes, Allye recoiled in horror.
“Mystic, I think you know our guest,” Nightingale said. “She’s been keeping me company until you could get here. She can dance, but she’s not you.”
Allye slowly backed away from the monster who had kidnapped her. She looked stage right and saw nothing but concrete wall. She looked to the other side and saw the same. There was no backstage and nowhere to go. The only way out was through the door at the back of the room.
Nightingale went over to Robin and grabbed Allye’s mentor and friend by the hair, dragging her to the middle of the room, right in front of the stage. The man who’d been holding her slipped up the aisle and out the door, leaving the three of them alone in the makeshift auditorium.
“Every time you mess up, she’ll pay the price,” Nightingale said in a voice so even, it was scary.
“Don’t hurt her!” Allye begged.
“Then don’t disobey me, pet,” he returned, pulling out a knife and holding it to Robin’s throat.
Allye’s heart nearly stopped beating. Her eyes locked with Robin’s, and the despair and fright she saw there almost had her going to her knees.
But then a funny thing happened. The longer she stared at the older woman, the more determination she saw in Robin’s eyes. It was as if, between the two of them, they were sharing strength.
Robin was still alive. The monster hadn’t killed her yet. Maybe Allye could still save her.
And for the first time, she truly understood what Gray must have felt when he’d been captured. She was helpless to do anything but exactly what Nightingale wanted.
She knew it didn’t matter if she danced perfectly or if she screwed up, he was still going to hurt them both. But if she could hold on for one more minute. Then another. Then another . . . Black, Ro, Arrow, and the others would come. She had to believe that.
Trying to take a deep breath, and failing because of how tight the collar was, Allye did as she was told. She danced.
Gray let Arrow take the lead. He didn’t want to be point because that would mean his attention would have to be on taking out anyone who got in his way, and the only thing he wanted to worry about was Allye.