Hidden Heir

by Amy Patrick

  Culley walked into the room. “Not that big a hurry. I found something, too.” He waved a sheet of stationery between two fingers. “Dear sweet Mummy took the time to leave a heartfelt good-bye note.”

  I snatched it from his hands, devouring the elegant script.

  Dear Culley,

  You can have the apartment as I won’t be returning to the states ever again. I have everything I want now—or soon will have. Before I leave here, I will take back everything that’s been taken from me. Have a nice eternity.

  Falene Rune

  I passed the note to Nox, who read it and then gave it to Asher.

  “What does that mean?” Asher looked up from the stationery. “‘I will take back everything that’s been taken from me.’ Is she threatening to kidnap you, too?”

  Culley laughed at the notion. “I can just see a missing person poster with my picture on it. It’ll look different to everyone who sees it. Seriously, though. I’m not sure what it means. Other than confirming she does plan to leave the U.S.”

  Nox nodded. “I’ll give Michael another call and find out if that sheriff got through to the airport authorities here. We should head for JFK. I guess she could’ve gone to Newark, but it’s farther away.”

  “You’re assuming she’s even headed for the airport,” Asher said. “She knows people are looking for Ryann. She might decide to lie low for a bit… wait out the heat before trying to sneak Ryann out of the country.”

  Then he added, “Or just the baby.”

  Dread stabbed my soul. Asher had just hinted at my greatest fear—that Falene would wait until Ryann gave birth, take the baby, and with no further use for my bond-mate…

  Just the thought of what came next made my vision black out and my heart pound so hard and fast it felt like it would push through my chest wall and exit my body.

  All at once the horror and fear and exhaustion all rolled up on me. Ryann had been right here—and we’d arrived too late. We had no idea where she was now or how to find her. She could be hurt, sick, in painful labor. She could have given birth already. I could hardly hear for the roar of blood rushing through my eardrums.

  Possessed by a surge of violent energy, I grabbed the first object I could find—a glass sculpture from the entry hall table—and threw it with full force. It crashed against a weird-looking black and red painting on the wall.

  The sculpture exploded with a loud crack, the jagged shards ripping the canvas.

  Resting my hands on my knees, I bent at the waist and burst into wracking sobs. No one spoke for several minutes.

  When I finally regained control of myself and straightened, I looked around me. The eyes of my friends held pity and understanding.

  My gaze snagged on Culley’s, then I looked back across the room at the destroyed artwork. It was probably priceless. Had been priceless.

  “Sorry about that,” I told him.

  He shook his head and gave me a sad smile. “No worries. I’ve always hated the art in this place anyway. Damn creepy. I donated most of it after my father died. Mum was so pissed at me. I didn’t realize she was the one who’d picked it all out. Gobs of money but horrendous taste, my mum.”

  And then his eyes flashed. He grabbed my upper arm, his voice excited. “I think I know where she’d go next if she is planning to leave this country and never come back.”

  He pointed at the ruined painting. “That’s what she was referring to in her note. Her art. That’s what was taken from her that she wants to get back. She always did love her ‘beautiful abstracts’ more than she ever cared for me.”

  “So where do we go? Where did you donate it?” Nox asked.

  “The Guggenheim Art Museum. It’s right here on the Upper East Side—on Fifth Avenue.”

  “It would be closed now, wouldn’t it?” Asher asked.

  Culley rolled his eyes. “Like that would stop her. I’ve never met a night guard yet who could stand up against the Sway.”

  A new hope sang in my chest as we all moved toward the apartment’s front door. We could get a cab and be at the museum in ten or fifteen minutes. Something skittered across the floor, striking the baseboard of the entry hall wall. One of us must have kicked it inadvertently.

  Bending to retrieve the object, Asher said, “Hey, what’s this?”

  He stood and held his flattened palm out to me. In the center of it was a bright spark. Oh—it was a diamond ring. Ryann’s ring that I’d given her on our wedding day. My heart plummeted.

  “That’s Ryann’s.” I could hardly force the words past the painful lump in my throat. “She never takes it off.”

  I must have staggered a bit because Culley’s hand came out to steady me. “It doesn’t mean anything, mate. It might have just fallen off.”

  My head shook back and forth as if powered by a motor. “No. Her hands and feet have been swelling because of the pregnancy. She told me her ring was getting tight.”

  “That’s common with pregnant women,” Asher said.

  “Something’s happened to her.”

  “No, brother,” Nox said. “Think about it. This is a good sign. Ryann must have taken it off on purpose. She left it here for you—to let you know you were on the right track—like breadcrumbs, you know?”

  “You think so?”

  He nodded. “I know so. It means when she left here she was conscious and thinking smart. She’s got her wits about her, and she managed to slip something by Falene. She’s strong. You’ve got to trust in that.”

  I breathed in. Out. In again. “You’re right. It’s good,” I said, feeling a bit stronger now myself. “Let’s go. I want to get to that museum as soon as possible.”

  When we reached the Guggenheim’s iconic swirled structure, it appeared Culley’s predictions about the night guards had been accurate. The thick glass front doors were unlocked, and there was no one at the entrance. We looked at each other, all thinking the same thing no doubt, and stepped inside.

  As we entered, our footsteps echoed against the ultra-modern building’s stark white floors and walls. The moon shone through the glass domed ceiling, casting light and shadows on the vaulted circular balconies that wrapped the lobby from top to bottom, making them resemble the ribs of a giant skeleton. The place appeared to be deserted.

  “This is creepy. I hope they don’t have, like, laser beam security or something,” Asher said.

  “It’s not Mission Impossible, mate,” Culley whispered. “Besides, if the security system was going to be activated, it would have been already. I think someone’s already taken care of that. Let’s just hope she’s still here.”

  He led us up the circular ramp toward the permanent gallery space that displayed his family’s donated works. As soon as we entered the gallery, I knew we were too late. It was more than minimalist—the walls were bare, and the three display pedestals staggered throughout the room displayed… nothing.

  “Bugger,” Culley said, slapping a white support column with a loud whack. “She’s already been here and left.”

  Asher looked around, moving from foot to foot as if his nerves were about to pop. “I think we should get out of here before those guards snap out of it and call the police.”

  Back out on the street, Nox hailed a cab while Asher, Culley, and I discussed our next move.

  “Where do you think your mother would go from here?” I asked Culley.

  “She’s got what she wants. Now she’ll flee the country. The question is… how?”

  “How many options does she have?” Asher asked. “Is she really going to try to get through airport security and customs with an unwilling or unconscious hostage—and an entire roomful of stolen artwork?”

  Culley said, “No way. She’d never risk her precious art by transporting it on a commercial flight, so JFK is out. And there’s no small, private jet that can make the trip to Australia. So… either she’s flying somewhere closer by small jet… or she’s traveling another way.”

  “Train?” I suggested.

/>   “Not unless she’s staying stateside for now and planning to try flying later. But now she knows the American police will be looking for the art thief. She may even expect me to call them and tell them she’s the one who broke in and took it. No… I think she’ll want to take her treasures and leave the country as soon as possible.”

  “What’s left?” I said.

  “Helicopter,” Asher suggested. “But again, that’ll only go a short distance. It could get her to another airport I guess, though, where she could board an international flight.”

  Culley seemed to consider it. “It’s possible, if she swayed the helicopter pilot and had one on standby, but again, there would be the issue of transporting the art without damage. And getting through security and customs at whatever airport she goes to. I don’t think she’d risk it.”

  Nox succeeded in getting a taxi to stop for us, but we still didn’t know where to tell the driver to go. A helipad somewhere? The train station? One of the three commercial airports or the four private ones near Manhattan?

  Desperate, I tried once again to reach out to Ryann mind-to-mind. It came out sounding closer to a prayer than a message, but that’s where I was emotionally at this point.

  Please, baby. Please hear me. I’m in New York City. I’ve come to bring you home. I miss you so much. I love you. I hope you’re okay.

  A few seconds passed, and then I heard something.

  Lad?

  My heart kicked into a rapid rhythm. Nearly light-headed with joy and relief, I gripped the side of my seat.

  Ryann. It’s me. Are you okay? I’ve been calling to you and getting no response. We went to the apartment. I was so scared.

  I was knocked out. She gave me some kind of sedative. I don’t know how long I was out.

  Do you know where you are now? Can you see anything?

  She put a hood over my head. I can’t see anything. But it smells like the ocean, and I can hear water moving, maybe lapping up against a pier or something.

  That’s good. Keep listening. Tell me anything you notice. We’re going to find you, baby. I don’t think we’re too far behind you.

  To my companions in the car, I said, “I just heard from Ryann. She can’t see anything but she’s near water. Hold on, she’s saying something else.”

  … like it’s rocking.

  What were you saying, sweet girl? Sorry, I was relaying information to Nox, Asher, and Culley.

  Ryann answered. I said she walked me from the car into a building. But it’s weird. Maybe it’s an effect of the drug, but I feel kind of off-balance, like the building is moving. I hope the baby’s okay.

  We’ll figure it out, Ryann. Just rest. We’ll find you, and Asher can check you and the baby out. You’re going to be okay. I’ll be there as soon as possible. I’m going to tell them what’s happening now. Keep me updated. I love you.

  I love you. I hope you get here fast. Falene said she’s taking me far away. Soon.

  My three friends stared at me, waiting for more information. I repeated what Ryann had said word-for-word.

  “That’s weird. She said the building felt like it was moving?” Nox said.

  “Maybe the sedative messed up her equilibrium. She could have vertigo,” Asher said. “At least she metabolized it quickly. If she were fully human she’d probably have been knocked out for hours.”

  “Are there any structures in the city built on floating platforms?” I asked Culley and Nox, who were familiar with the city. “Maybe the movement she feels is real.”

  “Hudson’s at Pier 81 is a seafood restaurant,” Nox said. “It’s a three-story restaurant on a yacht.”

  Suddenly, Culley grabbed my arm. His face lit with a triumphant grin. “I know where to go.”

  14

  Chapter Fourteen

  LAD

  Culley leaned toward the driver. “One-fifteen Brooklyn Marina please.”

  Nox looked at him with understanding dawning on his face. “You think they’re on a boat.”

  “If you want to travel internationally with stolen art and a kidnap victim—and do it in style—it’s a perfect choice,” Culley said. “It’s exactly what my mother would do.”

  Nox said, “Well there’s nothing at that marina but yachts.”

  “Super yachts,” Culley corrected Nox. “Mum’s is a 250-footer, a mansion on water. We took it on one of the few vacations I ever shared with her as a child. She doesn’t use it much, and I wasn’t even thinking of it when I assumed she was planning to make a quick getaway. It’s much slower than a jet, but it’s private, has plenty of room for holding a prisoner, and it’ll transport her beloved paintings and sculptures gently. I’ll bet she arranged to have her captain sail it to New York and meet her here.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right about this,” I said.

  As the car sped through the unnaturally bright city streets, I called out to Ryann again.

  We think we know where you are. Could you be on a yacht?

  Maybe. That would explain the rocking sensation. She sounded relieved. I don’t think it’s running right now, or I’d feel some kind of vibration, wouldn’t I? I don’t know. I’ve never been on a yacht before. I’m on a bed—I think. It feels like a bed. My hands and feet are tied, so I can’t move around and explore.

  There was a pause, and I was about to respond when her voice entered my mind again.

  Wait. I just felt something. I think the engine just started. Are you close? Please hurry, Lad. I’m scared. I want to go home. I want to have our baby in Altum.

  My heart literally ached. It was killing me to think of her tied up, blindfolded, afraid, and in pain.

  I know, baby. You will. I’ll be there soon. Does Falene have any guards with her? Have you heard any other voices?

  We needed to be prepared for a battle if Ryann’s kidnapper wasn’t alone. If she had a yacht captain, she could very well have body guards aboard as well.

  Not that I know of. But she put me in this room as soon as we got on board, and I haven’t seen her or heard anything since then.

  Okay, hang tight. We’re on our way.

  “Can’t you go any faster?” I asked the cab driver.

  The marina was just south of Brooklyn, across the East River from Wall Street. The myriad lights of Manhattan sparkled on the water. We jumped out of the cab and ran to the main dock, where enormous ships rested side by side like white-robed giants sleeping in the night.

  “There must be a hundred yachts here—and they all look alike. How are we gonna find the right one?” Asher asked.

  “Just look for the biggest and most ostentatious one,” Culley said. “And the name will be painted on the side. It’s called Illusion.”

  “Ryann said she heard the engine starting,” I told them. “So keep an ear out, too.”

  We split up, each of us taking an individual dock in order to check the yachts in each slip. The closest to shore was a community dock with smaller boats and little numbered sailboats that must have been part of a sailing school.

  I skipped that one and made my way down the B dock while Nox took the C dock, and Asher went to the D dock. There was only one other, an extension of the community dock. Culley would take that one. He was still trotting that way when I heard the noise.

  Did you hear that? I asked Nox.

  Yep. I think I see some movement on that farthest dock there. It’s hard to tell—It’s so dark out here.

  Crap, Asher said. I hear a boat moving. Lad—is it where you are?

  No. I think it’s from the E dock. That’s where Culley’s headed.

  I changed the intended recipient of my mind to mind communication. Culley—do you hear that? Can you see anything?

  That’s an affirmative, he said. There’s a ship moving out from the very end of E dock. I’m running that way now, but it’s moving fast. It’s gotta be them. I’m going to try to reach it in time to jump aboard.

  I reversed direction and started running for the main dock, which connected to
the one Culley had taken. When I reached it, I saw Nox and Asher emerge from their own individual docks, running hard.

  The three of us sped down the main dock and hung a left onto the one where the community boats and the sailing school were located, charging hard toward the end where it connected to dock E.

  From here, the yacht’s engine hummed louder, and I could hear the churning of the water beneath it. My lungs burned from a combination of exertion and adrenaline.

  Finally reaching the end of the community dock, we curved left onto the E dock and got sight of the enormous super yacht. It was already several yards away from the dock, pulling away into the dark water.

  I couldn’t see whether Culley had made it aboard, but I sure hoped so because Nox, Asher, and I still had a way to go before we reached the dock’s end. My heart sank when we did reach it. Culley was there, bent over at the waist, sucking in shuddering lungsful of air. He turned his head and looked up at us.

  “I’m sorry, mate.” He stopped and gulped another breath. “I did my best. It was too far gone by the time I got here.”

  “It’s still close. Luckily, the ship is too big to pull out of sight quickly,” I said, pacing and thinking. “We can still catch it.”

  “How?” Asher said.

  Before I even realized I intended to, I dived into the water. It was cold. Really cold. And dark. And I wasn’t sure even my Elven constitution could withstand the water pollution.

  Pushing the disgust and discomfort from my mind, I began swimming as fast as I could, pursuing the yacht.

  “Lad,” Nox yelled after me. “You’ll never catch it.”

  I ignored him. I couldn’t listen. I couldn’t believe that. I would get to her—I had to.

  Between strokes, I heard Nox bark an order. “Check the smaller motor boats. See if one has keys inside.” The sound of pounding footfalls followed.

  Lifting my head and searching for the fleeing yacht, I saw it had increased its lead on me. I swam harder, pushing my muscles and lungs to their absolute limit. There was no way I would come this close to Ryann and let her slip through my fingers again.