Dark Rapture_A Disturbing Psychological Thriller

by Logan Fox

“Hey, at least—” Ethan began, his voice thick.

  “So how’d you know about the dresses?”

  “We suspected a brothel, a trafficking ring, something… along those lines. But elite. Someone who had enough money to hush up just about anything. Hush it up and then sweep away the trail of money they’d spent hushing it up. I went undercover at a few of the more upperclass clubs in the country. Months later, just as the department was talking about closing up the case again, I overhead two girls talking about a friend of theirs that’d just cashed in on a huge paycheck.”

  Ethan paused, brushing his fingertips against Pearl’s bare back. She shivered, cringing as he gently applied a dressing to the wound beside her spine.

  At least the painkillers had finally kicked in. And God, were they strong. She floated, Ethan’s voice coming to her as disembodied as that of a phantom. The air around her became soft and warm, her thoughts fuzzy.

  “That got my attention,” Ethan said. “I eventually got a name. I eventually got through to their site — eventually, ‘cos it’s not exactly something you can Google. Turns out they buried themselves in the Deep Web — nothing suspicious about that, right? I eventually got their link, and guess my fucking surprise when I see a chick wearing the exact same yellow dress as vic one and three?”

  “Big surprise,” Pearl said, her lips feeling weird as they moved. “Big… surprise.”

  Ethan laid a hand on her shoulder, tightening until she turned her unfocused gaze on him.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  Pearl managed a clumsy thumbs-up. “No more pain so fan-fucking-tastic.”

  She faced forward again, closing her eyes and letting out a huge sigh.

  “And then?” she prompted. She was enjoying the lilt and cadence of Ethan’s voice. It had a hypnotic, zen-like quality.

  “Made contact. Worked my way in here. Luck was on my side, for sure. One of their handlers had just gotten kicked out. Still not sure why — everyone’s real tight-lipped about it. Guess they liked what they saw when they did their checks. So here I am.”

  “Here you are,” Pearl mumbled. “You find anything yet?”

  “Not yet.” Ethan put another dressing on her, working nimbly. “I was hoping I’d have found the knife by now, but looks like I used up all my luck just getting in here.”

  “Knife?” Pearl thought about the knife Tanner had used to cut away her dress. When had that been? Days ago? Weeks ago? “Kinda knife?”

  “Hunting knife. The vics with the rope burns both had cuts on them.” Ethan’s hand paused on her again. “You think of something?”

  “Tanner.” Pearl made a slashing gesture with her hand. Luckily her cocoa was nearly empty — else the couch under her wouldn’t have been that white anymore.

  “Yeah, no.” Ethan sighed heavily. “Tina saw it, too. It’s not a match.”

  Pearl shrugged. She was starting to feel drowsy. God, how strong were those pills he’d given her?

  “I tried to tell her,” Pearl said, glancing at Ethan over her shoulder. “But then he came in. Collared me.” Her fingers lifted, sliding behind the collar around her throat.

  “Who? Tanner?”

  “Yup.” She gave him a deep nod. “Guess I’m his now.”

  “You don’t belong to anyone, Pearl.” Ethan applied another dressing. There was no pain at all now, just a feeling of pressure as he glued the dressing to her skin with a firm stroke of his fingertips.

  “Try telling Tanner that.”

  “Wait, you tried to tell who what? Tina?”

  Pearl swallowed. Shit. Why’d she said that? She didn’t want Ethan to know just how hugely she’d fucked up. Who would?

  “Yup,” she said. Her fingers traced the circumference of a ruby. It had to be a ruby; why would someone with as much money as Tanner put fake gemstones on his pet’s collar?

  “And?”

  “I… Tanner knows. About you.” Pearl tightened her hand around her mug and then decided to put it down before she spilled it or accidentally drank the last, sludgy inch of it.

  Ethan didn’t say anything. He wasn’t touching her anymore, either. The skin between Pearl’s shoulders began crawling. She really, really didn’t want to look behind her, but it was that or lose her mind.

  The man’s eyes were downcast. He fidgeted in a small medical bag, his lips twisting as if he was chewing on the inside of his lip.

  “Ethan?”

  “Fuck.” It was a quiet, forceful murmur.

  Pearl’s jaw bunched, cutting off the rest of her apology. But then the man was just quiet again. The air began to hum, and Pearl shrugged her shoulders.

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  “How much?” Still in that same quiet voice. “How much does he know?”

  Word spilled from her. “That you’re here undercover. Investigating… dead bodies.”

  Ethan got to his feet, shoving antiseptic and dressings back into the bag as he tugged it off the couch.

  “Fuck,” he said again, his voice rough now. He still hadn’t looked at her, hadn’t lifted his eyes.

  “Ethan, I—”

  But he strode from the room like a drunk man, his shoulder crashing into the hallway as he headed for his room. Pearl bit down on her lip, twisting her fingers in her lap as she stared after him.

  What had she expected?

  She’d messed up. Or, as Gia would have said, she’d fucked up real fucking bad.

  Yet she felt strangely calm. Where her heart should have been thundering in her chest like a runaway horse, it drove in a steady throb against her chest.

  Ethan returned a few minutes later, holding something in a bunched fist. Pearl stared at his hand, then up at him.

  His green eyes flashed up to her. “Does Seth trust you?”

  Pearl blinked up at him. His eyes dipped and shied away. He flicked a finger at her — not with the hand holding whatever the fuck it was holding — and swallowed loudly.

  “Cover yourself, will you?” His voice was still hoarse.

  Pearl nodded quickly, hands fumbling around her waist for the robe. She tugged it up to her shoulders, staying at an angle as Ethan perched beside her on the couch.

  “Does he trust you?” Ethan asked again. His hand was on his knee, still closed.

  Pearl stared at it as quiet, icy dread chilled her bones. “I guess,” she whispered.

  “Well, if he doesn’t, then you have six hours to change his mind.”

  It was Pearl’s turn to swallow. She forced herself to look at Ethan. Their eyes met, Ethan’s mouth tightening. He’d grown pale, as if barely in control of the white-hot anger boiling inside him.

  Could she blame him?

  “Why?” Pearl asked.

  “Because you’re going to bring his phone to me.”

  Pearl took a deep breath and cinched the robe tight around her throat. Her bell jangled, filling the stifling silence in the room with its tinny sound. She hurriedly silenced it by wrapping it in her fist.

  “His phone?”

  Ethan nodded and opened his hand. A small vial filled with clear liquid was inside it. An air bubble slid languidly up the side of the glass as Ethan tipped his hand. “Tranquilizer. Should knock him out stone-cold for at least two hours.”

  “You want me—” Pearl broke off with a laugh “—to drug Seth and steal his phone?”

  “Tonight. Before you leave.”

  She laughed again, but it was a strangled sound. “I can’t—”

  “You blew my fucking cover.” Ethan’s voice dipped. “Every hour I’m still in this place, I run the risk of being taken out. Do you understand what I’m saying?” He spoke carefully now, his voice tight. “Do you understand?” Such calm.

  “Yes. But I can’t—”

  “No?” Ethan’s fingers snapped closed over the vial. “Then I’ll take you back to your room.”

  He got to his feet.

  Pearl almost swooned with relief. She let a small smile flicker onto her mouth. “Thank you, Eth�
�”

  “And then you’ll give me back the keycard.”

  The rest of her sentence died on Pearl’s mouth. She gaped up at Ethan with wide eyes.“What?”

  Ethan crouched down in front of her, grabbing the top of her knee through the robe. He leaned in until Pearl was shying back from him, eyes flashing between his.

  “It’s a fair trade.” Ethan held out the vial between thumb and forefinger, shaking it until a burst of bubbles clouded the liquid. “You get me Seth’s phone, I’ll let you leave. Else you’re stuck here with me… right till the end.”

  Those last four words sounded strained. Ethan’s jaw bunched. He gave the vial another shake.

  “Offer expires in ten seconds, chick. Ten. Nine. Eight.”

  Pearl stared at the vial as Ethan counted down.

  Drug Seth?

  Steal his phone?

  Well, she’d done it once before. But then she’d given it right back. Did it matter? She’d be long gone before he woke up, right? Right?

  “Four. Three. Tw—”

  Pearl snatched the vial from him. “On one condition.”

  Ethan turned his head to the side, staring at her from the corner of his eye. “You’re not calling the—”

  “You take me out of here.”

  “Right.” Ethan snorted and got to his feet. “You think we can just do what we want? Caden’s OCD with our fucking schedules. If I don’t show up at his office at seven a.m. sharp, he’ll rain hell down on me.”

  “You’re staying?” Pearl sat back on the couch, flinching as a dull throb of pain washed into her. She hurriedly sat forward again, staring up at Ethan with a frown. “But he knows. Tanner knows—”

  “Yeah. So you said.” Ethan shrugged, the steely glint in his eyes a stark contrast to the casual gesture. “And yet, here I am. So Tanner either has balls of steel, or he has nothing to hide. Maybe he’s just as curious about who the killer is. Either way, I still have a few hours — maybe even a day or two — before he either gets bored or I have to call his bluff. Which means I still have a chance at finding something I can use in the investigation.”

  Pearl nodded slowly. The vial had already grown warm in her palm.

  “Why Seth’s phone?”

  “Intel.” Ethan shrugged again and crossed his arms over his chest, hand clutching the inner crease of his elbow. “Messages. Phone numbers. History of his locations. Tina said she heard one of the girls saying that Gia’s gone. And he took her. So maybe—”

  “He took her home.”

  “Maybe.” Another shrug. “Or maybe he killed her.”

  Pearl let out a low laugh. “Seth? He’s not…”

  What, Seth wasn’t possible of killing someone? What if she hadn’t called his name that night he’d been beating seven shades of shit out of Henry?

  So she tried again. “He can’t—”

  Ethan lifted his fingers from his arm. “Then he might lead me to the guy who can.”

  She took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll get his phone.”

  “Make sure he’s out cold. And don’t get caught. No waves. The last thing I need is to try and get you out of some or other mess you’ve landed yourself in. It should be pretty straightforward — you meet up with him, drug him, take his phone. Got it?”

  Pearl nodded.

  Ethan gazed down at her for a moment. Then he gave a short nod and snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah. You wanted to make a call, right?”

  Greg.

  She nodded, sitting forward in a rush.

  “Great. Then I’ll see you back here in six hours.” Ethan gave her a small smile. “With Seth’s phone.”

  Pearl shivered and drew her robe as tight around her as she could without putting too much pressure on her wounds.

  “Best you get back. Wouldn’t want anyone getting suspicious, right?”

  “Right.” Pearl got to her feet, pausing for a moment to make sure she wasn’t going to fall over, puke, or start crying.

  Nope. All systems go.

  Ethan led her to the door. Opened it. Swung out an arm.

  She stepped outside, turning as the man shut the door in her face. Taking a small step back, Pearl let out a massive breath, and brought her hand up. Parting her fingers, she peered down at the tiny vial in her palm.

  Drug Seth. Steal his phone. And then make it back here in six hours.

  Look out, world — here comes Super Pearl.

  6

  Vindictiveness

  The den was empty. Morgan’s room was empty. Opal’s room was empty. Pearl stood in the small kitchenette, gripping Ethan’s vial in her fist as she stared wide-eyed at the empty doorways.

  Gaping, rectangular mouths.

  She gave a small shake of her head. Still the painkillers, or an overactive imagination incited by the thought of serial killers lurking in the shadows? Pearl squeezed her eyes shut.

  Seth was probably in his room, and she’d walked right past his door. Now she had to go all the way—

  “It’s so quiet, with everyone gone.”

  Pearl let out a muffled yelp, eyes flashing open. She turned to Caden, blinking a few times at him. A hallucination?

  He turned to her, glasses throwing off a white prism as the kitchenette’s bright light gleamed off them.

  “Did Ethan attend to your wounds?” Caden asked, nudging his spectacles up his nose with a knuckle.

  “Yes.” Pearl nodded as well, just in case Caden was hard of hearing.

  “I… must apologize, Miss Buchanan.” Caden stepped forward, his chest brushing against the soft fabric of his shapeless grey shirt as he drew a deep breath. “When we first met, I made a big show of how important consent is to us here.”

  Pearl pressed back, wincing when Ethan’s robe sloughed against one of her dressings.

  “Turns out…” Caden looked away from her, his blue eyes crinkling as he let out a short, deep laugh. “Turns out my stringent rules were incapable of protecting you.”

  He looked at her again, mouth in a straight line. Her eyes skipped over his face, taking in the shadows under his eyes, the pallor of his skin.

  “I… guess… it wasn’t something you could control,” Pearl managed — a surprising coherent sentence for a brain that felt comprised solely of fog.

  “No.” Caden’s eyelids flickered. “I suppose I shouldn’t have assumed that my rules would be followed with the same enthusiasm with which I created them.”

  He let out another low, sardonic laugh. “Guess the last nail in the Fox Pit’s coffin won’t just be Tanner’s ego, but mine too.”

  Pearl watched him, her skin crawling at the mention of coffins. Caden stared back, blue eyes unreadable. Then he drew another visible breath, straightened his arms, and carefully tugged each sleeve straight.

  “I want nothing more than to let you rest after the ordeal you suffered today, but unfortunately I do require you for another hour. Possibly two.”

  Pearl was silent.

  Caden glanced down at her, scanning her thin robe, her bare feet, her tousled hair.

  “You’ll need to get changed. Put on something comfortable. I’ll wait.”

  He stepped aside as she lurched forward. Pearl could feel the weight of his gaze on her, tracking her across the room as she made her way to her bedroom.

  She switched on the light.

  The shadows fled… but so did something else: a shape, tall and thin, as phantasmagorical as it was fast. Pearl jerked, taking a hurried step back. Light filled the space, but behind Gia’s bed in the right-hand corner of the room, a sliver of darkness remained inexplicably — impossibly — attached to the wall.

  Pearl let out a strangled cry. Her shoulder banged into the doorframe as she backed out of the room without taking her eyes off the lingering shadow. Was someone standing there? Watching her? A lithe, elongated slip of a—

  “Miss Buchanan?”

  A hand on her shoulder. Pearl started, swinging to face Caden.

  “Something—” She swallow
ed hard, stabbing out a finger as she turned back to the room. “There’s something…”

  Her voice trailed away. That shaking finger pointed at nothing.

  “What’s the matter?” Caden maneuvered around her, blocking her view of the room for a moment as he stepped inside. He scanned the room much as he’d scanned her.

  “I…” She cleared her throat. “In the corner… something—”

  Caden turned around, his mouth pulling to the side. “There’s nothing there. Are you sure—”

  But she couldn’t hear the rest of his words. She could see his mouth moving, but the only sound her ears had decided to relay to her brain was a high-pitched whine. Like feedback. Interference from the nether realms.

  A dark silhouette reared up behind Caden. It was almost the same shape as him — shoulders, neck, head — but expanding out and up like ink on blotting paper. Shreds of midnight shadow bled into the air, tendrils that looked ready to wrap around the man and stab into him with vicious intent.

  “—Buchanan?”

  Hands grabbed her upper arms.

  Pearl blinked.

  A face filled her view — Caden, eyes narrowed and mouth grim. He gave her a shake that made her teeth clack together.

  “Twenty-seven of them,” Pearl heard herself say.

  Caden’s head darted back. It was his turn to blink at her. He carefully released her, using thumb and forefinger to reposition his spectacles as he straightened and stared down at the floor.

  “Twenty-seven?” he repeated in a thick voice.

  Pearl shook her head. “What?”

  “You just—” Caden took a step back. “Did you just say—”

  From behind Pearl came Seth’s gravelly voice. “What’s going on?”

  Pearl wanted to turn around, but Caden’s shocked eyes held her transfixed. The darkness had evaporated as if it had never been, but it would be a long time — perhaps forever — before she could erase that image from her mind. She shivered violently, wrapping her arms around herself.

  “Caden?” she asked.

  Caden’s gaze finally lifted. He stared past her, at Seth.

  “Did you hear that?” Caden asked.

  Pearl turned then, grimacing when she bumped into the doorframe again; the things seriously had it out for her lately.