A deep, familiar voice answered. “I’ve been calling you for days,” he told her. “I’ve left numerous messages on your phone. Why didn’t you return my calls?”
She mouthed, “It’s okay,” to Anna and raised her finger to turn off the speaker, but Anna shook her head. With a shrug, she answered. “I’m sorry, Beau. I turned off my phone and forgot to switch it back on. Is everything okay?”
“No. Everything is not okay. I must talk to you,” he told her. “You must listen to me.”
“I really don’t have time for this.” She was wary that Christoff moved steadily closer. His eyebrows knit and his mouth tightened into a hard, straight line. She tried to ignore his expression and the hair raising on the back of her neck as she told Beau, “We’re in the middle of an emergency at the moment.”
“You will listen to me,” his voice commanded. “You will listen and do as I tell you. Do you understand?”
Something in his tone controlled her words. “I understand.”
“Palmer is an evil man. He pretends to be what he is not. You must destroy him before he harms others. Tell me you will destroy him.”
Unbidden, her head nodded. “I will destroy him.”
“Enough!” Christoff’s voice rang in her ears as the phone disintegrated beneath his fist. She tried to shake the fogginess from her brain. Something felt wrong. Anger boiled inside her. Hate. Her own hand balled into a fist. Must destroy Terry. Anna grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her.
“Fight it, Susie. It’s all a lie.”
“We have to find him. He must be stopped.” A gun. Where would David keep a gun?
“Terry is not evil. You know that.” Anna held her by the shoulders, shaking her. Reasoning with her.
“Terry figured out that Beau had some sort of psychic control over you. He went to confront him. He’s trying to save you.”
“Save me?” What was Anna talking about?
“Yes, Susie. Save you from going down the same path as our clients.”
“I don’t … what’s happening, Anna?”
“You’re being compelled to harm Terry. He figured out that the same thing must have happened to the other victims. You must fight it.”
“I’m trying,” Susie sobbed. “It’s just so strong.” She covered her face with her hands as she wailed, “I love Terry, but sometimes I hate him so much I want to strangle him.”
“That’s called marriage,” Christoff informed her in a tone that gave her no indication of whether or not he was joking.
Anna spun around to him. “Will you shut up! You’re not helping.”
“Actually.” Susie snorted. “He is.” She offered him a half-smile. “I didn’t know you were such a funny guy, Christoff.”
Christoff shrugged. His right eyebrow raised and the side of his mouth curled as he said, “Funny? I was just stating the obvious.”
Despite his objection, she noticed a twinkle in his eye.
Anna drew back her shoulders and closed her eyes. “There’s more than mind control here.” Her eyes snapped open. “Empty your pockets, Susie.”
Susie placed her right hand into her skirt pocket. Her fingers touched velvet but she withdrew her empty hand and showed Anna an open palm.
Anna shook her head. “Give me the pouch!”
“There’s nothing in my pocket,” Susie objected as the urge to find Terry grew stronger. Heat radiated from her fingertips, rising through her body as her blood carried the anger to her heart. Terry must die.
“You must give me the pouch,” Anna pleaded. “It’s augmenting the hex.”
“I can’t,” she argued. “He won’t let me.” Tears welled behind her eyes. Damn you, Beau. Damn you to hell.
“If you don’t hand it over, I’ll be forced to take it from you.”
She tried to run, but a wall of muscle blocked her path. Strong hands grabbed her arms and held her firm.
“Let. Me. Go.”
Christoff disregarded her order, his expression a mixture of amusement and annoyance as he turned his attention to Anna. “What should I do with this one? Anna? What’s the matter?”
“All hell has broken loose,” she told them as her face turned a whiter shade of pale. “That apocalypse we feared is happening. It’s happening now.”
“Zombies?”
“No, Susie. Living, breathing humans. Your friend Beau has been a busy boy. He must have called every patient in your group therapy class and then some. The police are getting calls from terrified family members all over town. They won’t understand. People are going to die. Innocent people, like yourself. Derrick and the others are doing their best to control the situation, but it may not be enough. I must do what I can to help them.”
Christoff released his grip on Susie’s shoulders. “Then we must hurry.”
“I need you here,” Anna told him, motioning to Susie with a tilt of her head. “Don’t let her leave the office. Promise me.”
“I’m not a babysitter.” He snarled, looking from Anna back to Susie.
“Derrick’s in trouble,” she told him as she made her way to the door. “He’s my husband and he’s outnumbered.”
“So. That’s never stopped him before. He’s a strong man. A killer.”
Anna shook her head. “You don’t understand, Christoff. He’s fighting humans. Humans under the influence of hallucinogenic drugs and hexes.”
The huge vampire shrugged. “Then killing them should be easy.”
“We don’t kill humans. Especially those who are unable to think for themselves.”
Christoff rolled his eyes and sighed. “Fine. Go assist your husband. I will ensure this little one does not kill her lover.”
“Thank you.” Anna turned her attention back to Susie. She placed her palms on her friend’s cheeks and stared into her eyes. “Fight this. Terry needs you to stay strong.” Then, she was gone.
Terry needs me? A flicker of awareness broke through the confusion clouding her thoughts. Terry needs me. But the shadow returned, and with it, Beau’s last command. Must kill Terry.
Christoff walked her over to the settee and forced her down. “Sit!”
“You can’t keep me here,” she protested. “I must go to him. I have a job to do.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “As do I.”
As intimidating as he was, she couldn’t let him keep her from her task, but how could she escape? Suddenly, she knew what she must do. “I need to use the ladies room.”
“Be quick,” he told her as he followed her to the office en suite. “I’ll be waiting by the door.”
She hurried into the small bathroom, locking the door behind her before searching the vanity drawers. Yes! With her weapon in hand, she threw open the door and drove it into her jailer’s chest.
He staggered back a few feet, bellowing, and trying to pull the bundle of wooden cuticle sticks from his left pectoral. As she tried to escape, he caught her by the hair and dragged her toward him. She reached for the empty coffee mug left on the Terry’s desk and smashed it into his temple. The porcelain shattered but he barely reacted until he noticed the re-opened wound on her hand.
“Stop this foolishness!” he roared, his blue eyes now as red as the blood trickling from her palm.
Except she couldn’t stop. Couldn’t ignore the commands ringing in her ears. Despite her fear, her torment, she fought on. Her fists pounded his chest, driving the makeshift stake further toward his heart. He bellowed and his eyes flamed as he pulled out the offending object. Fangs sprung from his gums. “Enough!”
“I can’t stop,” she cried as she fought to drive the murderous, conflicting thoughts from her head. As much as the voices drove her to kill Terry, her heart fought the desire to harm him. Terry needs me.
“Help me, Christoff. Please. Help. Me.”
Her hand slipped inside her pocket and Christoff snarled. “I advise against another attack.”
She shook her head and held out the red, velvet pouch. “I don
’t know how it works or where it came from, but it feeds my hate. Take it, please take it away from me before it completely controls me. Before it turns me into—”
“Gollum?”
I never expected that. “You’ve seen The Lord of the Rings movies?”
“Phff. I’ve read Tolkien.” He took the hex bag from her hand. “I’ve seen this type of magic before. It was made for you, and you alone. I will destroy it before it does any more harm.”
“He’s still in my head,” she cried, holding her hands over her ears in the hope that she could block out the homicidal urges. Please, God. Don’t let me hurt Terry. “He’s so strong.”
Reaching out with both hands, she flexed her fingers, her biceps twitching, her arms shaking. As her body rocked, the muscles in her jaw clenched to the point of pain. Christoff seized her. His strong hands held her by the wrists. Blood pooled in her palms and, in that instant, she made a decision.
“Exchange blood with me.”
Christoff dropped her hands and backed away, scowling as if her request had repulsed him. “Do you understand what you’re asking?”
She nodded. “Can you stop the voices in my head?” Voices that called to her, even as she asked her question. Murderous voices commanding her to do awful things.
“Little one”—the corner of his mouth curled into a smirk but the color of his eyes remained blood red as he informed her—“if I do what you request. I will become the voices in your head.”
Part of her wasn’t ready. A big part. He terrified her but more distressing was the thought that she might actually hurt Terry. She didn’t wait for a response.
“Do it!” She thrust her palm at him, her feet already itching to leave. “Do it before I change my mind.”
As he accepted her hand, she steadied herself for a frenzied, painful attack. Memories of her previous experience with the rogue vampires flooded back, turning the contents of her stomach. His tenderness surprised her. This huge, aggressive-looking vampire tenderly lapped the blood from her palm, never once attempting to bite into her flesh. Once he’d taken enough, he tore a small hole in his own wrist and held it to her mouth.
“Close your eyes. I’ve been told it’s better if you don’t look.”
She did as he instructed, tasting the coppery tang of his blood on her tongue. Feeling his life force in her cells. Hearing his voice in her head telling her that she was going to be all right now. The fogginess dissipated. She expected to hear his instructions, his commands. Instead, she heard her own. Go save Terry.
****
Terry opened his eyes and cursed the pain that felt like a bullet to his brain. “Son of a bitch.” He tried to sit up but found that his hands were tied behind his back. His feet secured with heavy ropes. With difficulty, he managed to push himself into a sitting position to lean against a cold, damp wall. As his eyes adjusted to dull light, he took in his surroundings. “What the hell?”
The brick walls of the small room were lined with shelves full of jars and strange objects. He squinted, trying to make sense of the contents of the assorted jars. Fuck! Is that a human fetus? Beside it, a large cobra lay coiled, its head positioned to strike. He remained as still as he could manage. Watching. Waiting. For the longest time he studied it until, at last, he realized it was dead. A taxidermy work of art. He let out a sigh of relief, knowing he stood little chance against a poisonous snake. People he could manage. Snakes … not so much. Especially tied up and defenseless. How the hell had he gotten here anyway? He wracked his throbbing brain for an answer. Last thing I remember is going to Dr. Dubois’s office. Someone must have got the jump on me. It seemed likely that the dampness behind his head was a result of a bleeding wound. Probably had a concussion too, judging by the pain and memory loss. Experience warned him of the danger a concussion posed. Must stay awake.
The more he tried to find clues by scrutinizing the contents of the shelves, the more convinced he became. This guy is truly fucked up. He struggled against his bindings. The rope burned his skin, but he had to escape. No way was he going to become the contents of one of those jars. He wanted his eyes exactly where they were, in his head, not on display in a psycho’s dingy, lair. A wave of panic washed over him. Bile rose in his esophagus. What if I never see Susie again? He’d been in tight situations before yet none had affected him so viscerally. Can’t do this to her. Can’t put her through another trauma.
Using his buttocks to maneuver, he wiggled toward a low shelf and began to slam his feet into the brick wall. The shelf trembled against the force of the blow, shaking the heavy jars. This could work. He kicked again and again, building momentum. Watching the jars wobble precariously until… Smash! Two jars hit the concrete floor, shattering the glass, spilling the contents on the ground. He gagged as the pungent smell of decaying flesh permeated the small room. He tried to ignore the squishy sensation between his fingers as he sifted through the congealed muck for a sizeable shard of glass, grateful that he wasn’t able to see whatever it was coating his hands.
With a large shard jammed against the brick wall behind him, he began to force the rope binding his wrists in a downward motion against the glass. Occasionally, he felt the sharp sting of tearing flesh as the rope slipped, but he continued until the job was done. With his hands now free, he grabbed his makeshift knife and cut through his ankle bindings before reaching for the waistband of his jeans. Dammit! Where’s my gun? Using the wall to support his wobbly legs, he rose to his feet. All right, Palmer. Now what? His head swam. Pain radiated, not only from his head wound, but from his entire body. How long did I lay on this cold floor? Checking his watch, he cursed the beautiful timepiece that David had gifted him. The hands told him that it was two o’clock, but unlike his old digital watch, it gave no indication of whether it was night or day. He’d left for the doctor’s office at eight in the morning. Surely he hadn’t been imprisoned for only four hours? No. His cramped and aching muscles disagreed with that theory. More likely sixteen hours. Shit! Susie must be beside herself with worry. With a heave, he forced himself off the wall. Now, where’s that door?
****
Susie paced the office floor, wringing her hands and grumbling obscenities under her breath.
“You can call me anything you wish,” Christoff told her from his position on the couch. “I can’t let you go.”
She stopped in front of him, pleading, “I have to find him. It’s after midnight. He could be dead by now.”
“I have my orders.”
She screwed up her face at him. Now, he decides to listen to instructions. A smile spread across her face. “I thought you were your own man. I didn’t think you’d take orders from anyone, especially a female.”
He appeared confused. His eyebrows furrowed. Deep creases formed between his eyes.
“You can’t fool me, little one.” He wiggled his index finger. “You’ll stay here until Anna returns.”
“Damn it, Christoff. Who knows how long it will be before Anna comes back.” She kicked the coffee table, sending magazines flying in all directions. “If anything happens to Terry … so help me I’ll—”
Christoff crossed his arms across his chest and put his big feet on the coffee table. “You’ll do what?”
Before she could finish her threat, his pocket began to vibrate. She held her breath as he answered his phone.
“Berg.”
“Who is it? Is it Anna? Have they found him?”
He held his hand palm out to silence her.
“Yes. I know the place. Who? Yes. She’s no longer under the enthrallment. I’ll explain later.” He placed the phone back in his pocket and rose to leave. “I must go.”
“Hold your horses.” She grabbed him by the jacket sleeve. He looked from her hand to her face and frowned. She immediately released him. “Tell me what’s happened.”
“David has located Palmer through their telepathic link. He’s unable to attempt a rescue so he’s given me the coordinates.”
“What are we
waiting for?” She grabbed her bag from the desk and tried to push past him.
He held out his arm, blocking her path. “You, will stay here.”
“Not on your life, buster.”
“Technically, I’m—”
“Yeah, yeah, undead. I know. Regardless, I’m going with you.”
Christoff raised his hands and shrugged. “You’d better not get in my way.”
She poked out her tongue and screwed up her nose as she challenged, “Or what?”
“Or I’ll treat you to a song or two while you try to sleep,” he warned her telepathically. “I have several hundred in my repertoire.”
Now I know how Terry feels when David talks in his head. She sighed as she locked the office door behind her. As she turned toward the hall, a thought suddenly occurred to her. A thought that took her breath away. A thought that sent a shiver of panic down her spine. Dark outside. I’m going out in the middle of the night with a vampire. A vampire who even terrifies other vampires. She blew out a long breath and remembered all the times Terry had told her how brave he believed she was. He’d be proud of her. Proud of the courage he’d known it took to face this challenge. If David was able to connect with him, he must still be alive. As they hurried to Christoff’s car, she silently prayed he’d stay that way.
****
“Why are we stopping here?” she asked Christoff when he pulled up to the curb of the red brick building.
“This is where David told me we’d find Palmer.” He studied her face. “Why have you gone pale? Are you ill?”
“This is my doctor’s office,” she informed him. “She also holds the clinic here.”
Christoff glanced out of the window then back to her. “Perhaps it would be best if you waited in the car.”
The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach warned her that she should listen to him, but her heart overruled it. Terry may be in there. “When will the others get here?”
“The others?”
“David, Anna. You know. The Corels.”
“They are still occupied elsewhere,” he told her, offering no explanation as he exited the car. “Your enthrallment may be over but, I fear the danger is not.”
Take Back the Night (Blood Brothers Book 3) Page 13