Nocturne (Nightmusic Trilogy Book 2)

by Heather McKenzie

  I made myself look away. “Anytime.”

  “Could anyone be looking for you?”

  Davis didn’t reply.

  I knew he was awake even though I couldn’t see him—it had been days since any light broke into the cell. His breathing was even and the metal bed he was strapped to wasn’t shaking from his violent nightmares.

  “Davis?”

  Silence.

  I wished the fire had just claimed me like it had claimed Old Carl. Being locked down here, deep beneath the estate in a damp cell with the rot and the stench of human waste was worse than hell. It had been days since there had been any contact from above, and I wondered where they were; the Labcoats with covered faces that stuck us with all sorts of things, starved us, and probed and prodded our bruised bodies… They usually didn’t leave us torture-free for this long.

  “Davis…” I said louder, even though he could hear me even if I whispered.

  The chains around his ankles rattled against the metal bed frame. “What?” he said irritably.

  I swallowed hard, trying to get some liquid into my throat so I could talk. It hurt to use my voice, but I had to know. “Could Oliver be looking for you? Anyone?”

  His pause was too long. The steady drip of the rusted sink in the corner was loud. So was the skittering of a bug on the decaying brick walls and his labored inhales. “No.”

  “You just… left?”

  Davis groaned. “I had to. Ollie wanted to follow Kaya, and I figured he’d come to his senses if I didn’t join him. I guess that backfired.”

  “He’d never leave Kaya. Damn it, Davis, I can’t believe you came back here,” I said, any hope at being found obliterated.

  “Yeah. That was probably an unwise decision.” The chains holding him rattled. “I didn’t think this job would end up being quite so restrictive.”

  If Oliver wasn’t with Kaya, who would protect her? “This guy, Luke, will he look out for her?” I asked, talking quietly because my voice seemed way too loud in the dark.

  “Definitely,” Davis replied.

  “And you’re sure she lost the baby? Had a miscarriage?”

  “Positive.”

  “Hopefully she read my email warning her to never come back here. And where she goes, so will Oliver. He’ll follow her to the ends of the earth whether she wants him to or not. So, in other words, no one knows we’re missing, Davis. No one.”

  Davis coughed. “That is correct.”

  Death was knocking at both my doors—I wished it would just hurry up and come in already.

  I reached up to scratch my cheek, my shifting skin felt like it was being rubbed with sandpaper. It was a struggle to get my hand to my face. My stomach flipped and twisted tight against my spine—no food had been in there for days. The burns on my cheeks were itching and oozing. When I finally got my fingers there, I forgot I didn’t have fingernails to scratch with and agonizing jolts of pain shot through my hands. I quickly put them back down at my side. Mind over matter… mind over matter…

  There were at least six others down here besides me and Davis… but they never spoke. Never made a sound. Not even when Davis had been brought in kicking and swinging, and it had taken six armed men to contain him. The Labcoats wrestled him to the ground and injected him with something that rendered him useless, and then they chained him down onto a bed next to mine. All the while, the others—five men and one woman in a cell across from us—didn’t bat an eye. Their expressions remained vacant. They were emotionless and horrifically silent as Davis was electrocuted, half drowned, and hit repeatedly while being asked the same question over and over…

  Where is she?

  He didn’t know.

  Where is she?

  I didn’t know.

  Where is she? Where is she? Where is she?

  They didn’t know.

  I heard the question in my sleep and in the dark that had become terrifying. It rattled through the walls and chewed on my bones.

  I didn’t know. And Davis didn’t know either. And… even if I had an idea, an inkling, or a thought… all the torture in the world wouldn’t make me talk. Never would I help Henry Lowen find my baby girl. Davis, to his credit, said nothing either. He didn’t love Kaya like I did, but he had an extreme loyalty to her and Oliver that kept him quiet.

  And that would get him killed.

  My body hurt too much to sleep, and the ragged breathing of the others chained up in the cell across from us was like nails on a chalkboard. I needed to hear Davis’s voice.

  “Tell me about this Luke guy.”

  There was a heavy sigh. “I don’t know him,” Davis said wearily.

  I could hear him shifting around and pictured his sandy-brown hair slick to his head with nervous sweat, feet still bare because the green and neon-orange shoes he loved had been pulled off and tossed in a corner. His Rush T-shirt was probably even more shredded, and his brown eyes—usually sparkling with mischief and humor—were probably rimmed red and filled with hurt; I was glad I couldn’t see him.

  But I needed to hear him.

  I hated to beg. “Please, Davis. I need to know my baby girl is going to be all right. It might be the last thing I hear. I can’t see what’s going on with me, but I can feel it. The infection—is worse.”

  Davis had pleaded with one of the Labcoats to do something about my legs, which were covered in oozing sores from the burns that hadn’t been treated. The stinging and the throbbing in my right calf and the fever that brought me in and out of lucidity was increasing along with the shiver. I was dying. No doubt about it. And them torturing me hadn’t helped.

  “He’s tall,” Davis finally said.

  Tall. “Oh. And?”

  “His last name is Ravelle. I guess chicks would think he was pretty good looking if they were into dudes with six-pack abs and that kinda stuff. Kinda golden brown or blonde hair—I dunno whatcha call it. He looks like one of those dudes out of a cologne ad. Buff. Blue eyes…not that I really noticed.”

  A picture was forming in my head. “But what about him? What’s he like?”

  Davis coughed and spit; I was glad I couldn’t see it. “Seems like a cool guy. Tough. He could pound the crap outta Oliver if he wanted to. And he seems pretty forgiving, too; Oliver tried to slit his throat and he just let him walk away. In fact, afterward, he prevented Oliver from cliff diving without a parachute.”

  I liked what I was hearing. “And Kaya…does she love him?”

  Davis gulped loudly. “Hell yeah. It’s one of those ‘meant to be’ kind of things. You can just see it. I never believed in it before, but then… boom… there it was. No denying it. People talk smack about insta-love and love at first sight, but I am here to tell ya it’s real. The day of Kaya’s eighteenth birthday, something about her changed. I could see it in her eyes. She was different, and I just assumed it was because of Oliver. But now I know the whole story, I realize it was because of Luke. She met him that day. They fell for each other well before this whole kidnapping thing went down.”

  Davis paused, and I hoped he would tell me more.

  “You know,” he added wistfully. “She flung herself into a raging river to save him knowing it would probably kill her. She would do anything for him. Anything. I couldn’t imagine having someone love me like that. And I couldn’t imagine loving someone enough to die for them either.”

  I could.

  And I did; if Kaya found true love and a future that wasn’t her being used for Henry’s horrific schemes, I would die a hundred times over for that. There was one problem, though. One thing wrong with the whole pretty picture Davis was painting.

  “This Luke guy… he’s a kidnapper. A criminal.”

  Davis sighed. “Yeah. Technically, I guess. One of Eronel’s drugs killed his mother and left him with his little sister to look after, then some dickheads took the kid from him and held her for ransom. Luke had run out of options when The Right Choice Group offered him a way to get his sister back. Getting revenge for h
is mother’s death at the same time probably made for a sweet deal. I dunno, Stephan. I think I would have done the same. I mean, if that happened to my family—if I had one that is—I would fight for it. And man, if you saw his sister… she is scared shitless of everything now. Who the hell knows what happened to the poor kid. I just hope that—”

  Davis quit talking the instant he heard the stairs creak. We both froze. A pin of white light came into the room. For the first time in a long time, I caught a glimpse of the man locked up next to me; I could have cried. Davis’s face was bloodied and swollen, and bruises covered every inch of him. His eyes widened at the sight of me, and then he quickly looked away.

  “The neighbors are coming for a visit, Stephan,” he said, trying to contain the fear in his voice. “Got the kettle on?”

  The room quickly became swathed in light and our eyes, after being in the dark for so long, were blinded. I kept mine shut. Listening for the key in the lock, the cell door creaking open…and waited for the pain to come. What would it be this time? An electrical current followed by the same old question we couldn’t answer? The whip? Some experimental drug that made every nerve feel like it had caught fire?

  I held my breath.

  But there was no pain.

  Hands were on my legs, the touch light as a feather, and a soothing feeling crept across my burned skin. I inched my head up to see two Labcoats applying something to the wounds. They toweled off my face, then they slapped the back of my hand to find a vein.

  “Why don’t ya just kill me now and get it over with?” I said, sounding braver than I felt.

  “We’re not in the business of killing people, Stephan. You know that. This is just antibiotics, painkiller, and something for your upset stomach,” came a muffled reply.

  The voice made me shudder. It was the girl, her mask giving away nothing of her features but her slight accent and high-pitched voice unmistakable. I instinctively recoiled, trembling head to toe inside. Another Labcoat was injecting Davis with something, and for once, he wasn’t writhing in pain. This was new.

  “Why’d it have to take so long, huh, Stephan?” the girl asked. “You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble if you’d just gotten us some information sooner.”

  Information? My mind reeled in confusion. “What are you—”

  “Shush now,” she said. “The boys are gonna clean you up and get you fed. You just rest and get better, all right? You’re no use to us if you’re dead.”

  I had to laugh. “No use? Well… heaven forbid.”

  The girl let loose with a laugh, too, the same one that would haunt me in my dreams. It made every part of me ache—especially my fingertips—because it was the laugh I’d heard when she’d ripped the nails from them.

  “What do you want us for?” Davis asked.

  A jab at my other arm with a needle sent something cold under my skin. My stomach instantly quit rolling, and the pain practically disappeared. I could have died from the relief alone. The girl rolled her shoulders and tossed the needle aside. I suspected she was smiling behind her mask when a lock of purple hair escaped from beneath her hood. She carefully pushed it back.

  “What do we want with you, Davis?” she purred. A monster disguised as a kitten. “Well, I’m not sure yet, to be honest. But maybe you’ll sweeten the bait. If Kaya is even slightly hesitant about coming here for her precious Luke, Stephan will be the tipping point. And you? Icing on the cake perhaps?”

  Both Davis and I inhaled sharply; our innocent conversation had just given Henry Lowen everything he needed to control Kaya—all he had to do was find Luke. With him in their clutches, Kaya would do whatever they wanted.

  The girl hovered above me, the pink cactus tattoo on her neck pulsing with her heartbeat. “Ah… Luke,” she said viciously. “Blue eyed, blond-haired Luke. The man Kaya would die for. I can’t wait to meet him. He sounds… perfect.”

  The room in the Carlson’s basement was damp, and the heat blowing in from the ceiling vent didn’t do much to warm the air. A small lamp barely lit the space and cast eerie shadows on the walls. I was glad Thomas didn’t question why I needed it on. The dark still bothered me, but I hadn’t told him that yet.

  “How’s your leg?” he asked sleepily.

  The cut on my thigh wasn’t deep, just long and jagged. It was going to be a nice addition to my already ridiculous collection of scars. When Thomas dressed the wound for me, there were tears in his eyes. He took longer than necessary wrapping the bandage around my leg. Warm hands lingering on my bare skin… giving me goose bumps…and with him so close, it was impossible to deny I felt something for him. Three weeks of sharing a room, laughing in the dark, spilling our guts, and sharing our deepest fears and secrets had created a bond between us like no other. The accident only strengthened it. I hadn’t realized just how much I wanted him in my life until that horrific moment when we hit the ditch.

  I rubbed at the bandage.“ My leg is fine. Doesn’t sting anymore. Go to sleep,” I said softly.

  “Uh-huh,” he muttered. “But if you need me to have a look…”

  I got butterflies imaging his hands there again. “Nope. Just go to sleep, Thomas.”

  It was almost three in the morning. I tossed around in the tiny bed, exhausted and restless. The accident had me on pins and needles. Not because of the fear or the shock of what happened, or the discomfort of the countless scrapes and the muscle now throbbing in my injured arm; it was the baby I’d pulled from the van. Her small body tight against my chest and blue eyes wide when I tentatively looked to see if she was alive… was the spitting image of the baby I had seen when I almost drowned in the rapids. The baby who resembled Luke. The one who floated away from me before I lost consciousness… That baby was real. The vision played out. I had held her. I’d saved her.

  But I’d been holding on to the idea that the vision of that baby was a prediction of a future I would share with Luke. That it was a heavy hint at least. Now that she had come and gone and certainly wasn’t ours, I wondered if maybe I had it all wrong.

  “Kaya? Hey, are you awake?” Thomas asked, his voice barely a whisper.

  “Yeah,” I said, swallowing hard. I turned my thoughts to my roommate. I was so grateful for him. He was the only one able to get me to let go of the baby at the accident. He had dropped down next to me in the ditch, blood streaming across his face as the fire raged behind him, and said whatever I needed to hear to get me to hand over the crying infant. He shielded me from onlookers and the mother who wanted to express her gratitude, and before I knew it, had me in the truck and crouched as low as I could go. Barely able to stand, he ordered Marlene to hook up the winch to get the truck out of the ditch. He prevented what would have been a colossal mess if we would have stuck around until the police arrived.

  And I was grateful for Marlene, too. She practically ran people down to get us out of there before the police showed up. She drove like hell was nipping at our heels, steady on the black ice under Mr. Carlson’s guidance. She got us through the storm and back home. No one would question Marlene’s driving skills ever again.

  Or her bravery.

  “It’s bloody cold down here,” Thomas said, startling my racing mind once again.

  The space between our beds felt like a hundred miles even though we were only separated by a ratty shag rug, an ancient dresser, and our discarded shoes. I could see the outline of him underneath his blanket, long and lean, toes hanging off the end of the bed. The clock on the wall ticked and he shifted onto his side, eyes meeting mine in the dim light. I shivered, but not because I was cold.

  “Just come and crawl in with me. You know you wanna,” he said softly.

  I did because I felt so alone it hurt. “What about your head?”

  He had been dizzy, wobbling on his feet and eyes unsteady all day. “My head is superb,” he said. “I think the bandage makes me look mysterious, don’t you? A scar might add an element of danger to my otherwise perfect good looks. Chicks dig bad boys.
Or at least you do.”

  I snorted.

  “Really though, come crawl in with me,” he said.

  It was a tempting offer. “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

  “I think it’s pretty obvious where we stand with each other, don’t you?”

  I actually had no idea where we stood. Thomas was everything a girl could wish for in a man. He was brave, smart, funny, and incredibly gorgeous. Our connection was so undeniably real I couldn’t question it now if I tried. But he wasn’t Luke. I could never love him like that.

  “I don’t actually know what we are,” I said honestly.

  “Friends, Kaya. We’re friends,” he said. “I know you’ll fall in love with me eventually, but for now, that’s all we are. Besides, I don’t think I’m up to the challenge of having you as a girlfriend.”

  The grin on his face was a mile wide. It was a magnet pulling me out of bed and toward him before I’d given much thought about the consequences. My breath was stolen from the bite in the air, and my heart raced slightly. I stopped once my shins hit the metal edge of his cot. It would be wrong on every level to use Thomas for purely selfish needs, and I didn’t want to hurt him by leading him on. But I craved his closeness.

  “Quit thinking so hard and just get in,” he said, pulling back his blanket and moving against the wall to make room.

  I sat down, and the heat left behind from his body warmed the back of my bare thighs. It reminded me Marlene’s nightgown was a bit too short, the fabric threadbare, and there was not enough of it covering me. I tugged it down, suddenly tempted to get up and find my blue sweater, but Thomas’s hand had moved to my back. The heat of his palm was soothing, gently moving across my spine. I found myself sliding in next to him. Before I knew it, he was on his side, pulling me close and cradling my forehead against his chest. His skin was firm and inviting beneath my cheek and fingertips, and his masculine smell was heavenly. I tried not to notice.

  “What’s the scar on your neck from?” he asked, moving my hair away to reveal the long white line from my jaw to my collarbone.