Devil Hills: #2 Luna & Lydia

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  He’d stared at her long and hard before snapping the cuff on her wrist and the other one to the console between them. Jude had pulled off the highway two hours into the drive, found a nice looking chain motel and secured them a room in the back, out of sight and silent. He didn't know what was going on with her. He stared at the phone in his hand. He’d sent a text, an innocuous text that tested the waters.

  He was told in no uncertain terms that the lines were still considered unsecure.

  Jude growled and carried her into the motel, securing her to the back of the bed and carrying their two cases into the room. He locked the door. Not that he was expecting anyone to have followed them. As far as he knew, Gaudarville wouldn’t think twice about his story that he was following a lead to getting Luna back and from what he’d seen, she wasn’t permanent anywhere.

  He left the room, returning half an hour later with several bags of food and water. He put a large bottle on the nightstand beside her. He knew the drug would dehydrate her. He pulled the keys from his pocket, keeping them close after checking the bathroom for windows or weapons. Something told him fighting had become a part of her and he had somehow missed uncovering that knowledge during those few months before she vanished.

  Jude was removing her coat when she groaned. Her scent hadn’t changed but it still wasn’t right. He thought about the drugs they had been giving her and wondered when the last one was she got from Morgan. As insane as it sounded, he couldn’t find another answer for her scent. He hadn’t caught that scent since he was in junior high school and insane with rampant hormones. His and every girl around him.

  Not a stupid man, Jude stepped back and leaned against the wall. It was a king-sized bed suite. And he’d booked it for two nights. Just in case.

  He braced one foot on the wall, his arms up and crossing over his chest. Thick, pale lashes fluttered, her groan deeper as her free hand rose and rubbed the back of her neck, fingers going over the broken skin on her shoulder.

  Lydia bolted upright, her wrist pulling and caught. Wild, wide eyes circled the room, landing on him with a snarl that would have sent a smart man running for cover.

  Jude arched a brow and waited.

  “I booked us a room at the back of the hotel. Away from the other guests. I told him we were on our honeymoon and tended to be noisy,” he was positive he was being cursed into his next three lives even though she had yet to speak a word. “So…we can talk…and that half of we can be civilized…”

  He ducked the clock that came soaring at him, cord and plug trailing behind it.

  “Or not,” he sighed. “The drug tends to dry you out. Don’t throw the water because you’ll have to beg to get another one out of me. And apologize. Profusely.” He warned her with a little tsk of his tongue. She set the bottle down again, pale lashes narrowed. “Now…let’s start with your name.”

  “If you don’t know who the hell I am, what the fuck did you kidnap me for?” Her hand closed on the plastic bottle of water again, squeezing and damned tempted. “Lydia Jones.” She spit the name out furiously.

  Jude raised one eyebrow. “Lydia Jones,” he repeated flatly.

  “I didn’t pick it. It’s on the papers in my pack. Birth certificate, school certificates all the crap needed for life,” she told him angrily, pulling on her wrist and snarling again. “You don’t get asked these things when some woman is pushing you into the world.”

  Jude heard the anger, the bitterness in her tone.

  “Well, Lydia Jones…where does your family live? Your…” He stopped at the storm he saw easily in her eyes. “Alright…let’s try another topic…you blew up the research facility the other night.”

  He saw the instant knowledge though she tried hard to hide it. Finally she just shrugged.

  “So. You here to arrest me? Don’t they usually take the guilty to a jail?”

  “I’m not a cop. Do you know a woman named Luna St. Germaine?” He tried to sound casual, her shrug dismissing.

  “Not really. I’ve seen her name in the papers. I’m really not into the whole watch the world through the news thing. Never paid much attention. Should I?” She met his stare. If all he wanted was information, she’d deal and get out of here. “Where are we?”

  “A couple hours outside Montreal, headed west to Seattle.”

  “A…Seattle? Are you out of your…” she whipped her wrist, angrily pulling on the cuff and the bed. “Let me go! I have things here I need to do.”

  “Steal more jewelry from rich conservatives?”

  “None of your fucking business!” She shouted furiously, sliding over the bed and standing up, stretching and trying to reach him with her free hand. Aggravation got the better of her and she threw herself on the bed, screaming shrilly into the pillows.

  “Now that’s an interesting sight,” Jude murmured to himself, his eyes on the way the denim caressed the full globes of her ass as her feet kicked wildly behind her.

  “What do you want from me?” Lydia forced herself to speak slowly, clearly and as calmly as she could muster at the moment. She had a meeting to unload the jewelry she’d brought. She had another meeting to buy some explosives. She didn’t have time for this crazy person.

  “You lived in that facility you blew up, didn’t you?” He watched her slowly back up and turn to face him, sinking on the edge of the bed. She opened the bottle of water and drained half of it before setting it down. “I need answers, Lydia Jones.”

  “What do your answers have to do with going to Seattle?” She drew her tongue around her lips, studying him. “I don’t know you. I’ve no idea what you want from me. I could easily give you answers in Montreal, not across the entire continent.”

  “I told you. Answers. And technically, we’re headed to a nice town called Devil Hills. About two hours east of Seattle,” Jude almost laughed at the pure confusion on her face.

  “You’re not the cops. You’re not turning me in for…” She paused, searching for the right words. “Less than legal activities.”

  “Oh, minor things like theft and arson? Not my concern,” he assured her lazily. “Don’t care for the people you stole from and I know people who will give you a job for the arson. How did you know about the facility you blew up?”

  “Can I use the restroom, please?”

  “There’s no window in there.”

  “Oh, good, I gave up peeing out windows when I was five,” she said cheerfully. “Too many times I got my ass stuck and it’s annoying to have to explain to people all the time.”

  “I’d pay for that picture,” he murmured, lifting the keys from the bureau and opening the cuff, watching her massage her wrist. He moved around her toward the door to the suite, gesturing to the bathroom. “All yours. I’ll wait here.”

  She didn’t miss the casual stance or the shoulder holster beneath his arm. She lifted one corner of her mouth at him, unaware of the canine she flashed him. She didn’t even have enough energy to slam the door, just grateful for the facility.

  “I removed all dangerous items from the bathroom,” he mentioned a few minutes later, the door opening and a sullen looking woman glaring at him.

  “Will you let me go if I tell you whatever you want to know?”

  “I’ll let you go once I return you to Devil Hills,” he said, gesturing to the bed.

  “I’ve never been there before so how can you be returning me?” She hesitated, gauging her chances at the door.

  “You won’t make it.”

  “I don’t like being handcuffed,” she said, hating the shaking in her voice.

  “I can’t trust you not to run.”

  “I don’t know what you want from me!” She threw herself toward the door, hands raised and feet kicking out.

  Jude had expected it, his body moving to the side and his arms out to trap her against the wall. His arm went against her neck, pinning her in place, his legs braced against hers and easily using his height and weight to hold her.

  “I don’t want to hurt
you. I don’t intend to hurt you.” His voice was soft, soothing. “Stop fighting me, Lydia Jones.”

  “You’re kidnapping me!” She hissed furiously. “How the hell is that not hurting me?”

  “Do you know Elle Morgan?”

  “Doctor freak? Yeah, so what?” Lydia sighed and relaxed. She let him twist her arm behind her back and guide her back to the bed, the cuff snapped in place before he stepped back, pulling the large chair over and sinking down, his legs out and arms over his chest.

  “When did she give you your last injection?”

  “How do you know about those?” Lydia felt the panic rising in her. It hadn’t been as bad waking up with the cuff in place. But now, the memories that crashed inside her were hard to ignore. She pulled the pillows close together and stood up long enough to strip the blankets down the bed before laying down with a yawn. She lifted her twisted wrist, glancing at the face of her watch. “It’s the twentieth…last shot was the tenth. Next question?”

  Jude thought he knew answers but too much wasn’t making sense.

  “When did you start getting the shots?”

  “I guess I was about twelve?” Lips pursed, her memory tested. She knew the drill now. Knew what they were looking for even though she still didn’t know why. “Her and a couple other ghouls came to the school and had a list of names. Mine was on it,” she shrugged. “They said it’s an inoculation. Do you know what it is?”

  “You got it in school. Not because your father brought her to your apartment?”

  “You’re not big on answers, are you? I never lived in an apartment. And I definitely never lived with a father figure.”

  “You say you’ve never been to Devil Hills. You don’t have a mate…”

  “I’m not good with people. Friends tend to…it just never works out to get too close to someone,” she said flatly. “So mates aren’t high on my list.”

  “Why did you blow up the facility?” He almost smiled. She was using the friendship definition of the word mate.

  “Because they were keeping people against their wills, not giving them a chance to go out in the world and live,” she told him vehemently. “And doctor ghoul was involved. So I made sure they couldn’t use it anymore.”

  “Where’d you learn that?”

  “The internet,” she grinned cheekily. “It’s a great educational tool.”

  Jude shook his head, yawned and stretched. He eyed the bed and then her.

  “If I cuff you to me, are you going to kill me?” He watched her arch one eyebrow. “I could just drug you again, Luna.”

  “I’m not crazy,” she hissed angrily, pulling on the cuffs.

  “I didn’t say…”

  “You called me loony.”

  “Luna…it’s a name.”

  “Not mine. My name is Lydia. Check my papers, damn it!”

  “Tomorrow…Lydia,” Jude stood up and moved around the side of the bed, stretching out and pulling the blankets over them. “Go to sleep,” he reached over and tapped the light switch.

  He swore he could hear her thinking.

  “Umm…”

  “What?”

  “You won’t leave me, will you?”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” But he heard the fear in her voice.

  “I mean, seriously…you won’t leave me here alone?” A quiet minute passed. “Here. Locked up? You won’t, right?”

  “I won’t,” came the drowsy response.

  “You promise?”

  It was the slight quiver, the almost desperate sound that brought him back awake. “I promise, Lydia. I won’t leave you locked here alone.” He listened to the breath of relief she tried to hide.

  “Thank you.”

  “Good night.”

  “Umm...if I have to…you know…the bathroom…”

  “I sleep light. Just wake me up.”

  The answer seemed the right one because he felt her shift on the mattress, slide a little lower and exhale jaggedly before scooting back against him.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lydia slept and for the first time she could remember, didn’t wake up, unable to breathe and terrified. She held the unfamiliar blankets tight in her hands and shivered, settling down against the nice warm body and sighing somewhere near dawn.

  But she hadn’t slept through the night.

  Compared to him, she was delicate, slight. With slender arms, nice strong legs and curves in all the right places. He woke instantly when she moved, her head shaking. The single word over and over but the voice that of a frightened child. He rolled to his side, his hand slipping beneath her head while the other went around her waist, sliding his fingers between hers and holding her close.

  “You’re safe here. I promise, Lydia,” Jude whispered the phrase several times before that soft sigh broke free and she slipped back to sleep, away from whatever had chased her into her dreams.

  It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t noisy.

  There was no scent of antiseptic and no clanging and arguing among the guards.

  No one banged on her door and demanded she get up and train.

  It had only been the third day but the history of getting up early, forcing herself to wake and pretend she’d been there all night the last several months was deeply ingrained in her.

  Pale lashes opened slowly, her yawn soft and arms stretching.

  Until one of them caught and jangled.

  Then the room slowly registered. The night gradually returned with a low groan.

  “Stop wiggling around,” came the rough complaint. “It’s barely seven in the morning. Don’t have any place you gotta be, do you?”

  Lydia actually laughed and closed her eyes again.

  “Not since I blew up the facility. Nope.”

  “Tell me that’s not a normal thing for you. Blowing up things.”

  “My first time, actually. Not nearly as satisfying as I thought it would be,” she told him honestly, contemplating that. It should have been. She hated it. Hated them.

  “Why do you steal things?”

  “I need the cash,” she sighed, deciding maybe if she talked more, he’d let her go if she happened to hit the answer he was searching for. “There were twenty-eight people there besides me. Living and training…studying…getting those shots…I know they weren’t inoculations but honesty with that crowd wasn’t forth coming and I hadn’t managed to hack into the system like I wanted. It was easier to sneak out than get into their computers. Believe me I tried.”

  “The cash?”

  “I used it to make identities for the people there. Most of them weren’t even twenty-five years old. They…they’d lived there all their lives. So I stole stuff, sold it and built them identities and a small backpack of clothing. I set up a diversion, had them all up and ready to go just before one AM and…” She shrugged. “Set off the explosions just after they went running.”

  “Why not just go to the police?”

  “I tried that once,” she remembered, her body giving up a heavy shudder at the memory of the beating when the person she spoke with went back to the ghoul. “They have people on their payroll. Some of the guards enjoy beating girls a little too much. I learn fast from my mistakes.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, I’m fine. I’m free and so are the others. I checked. They all got to the safe houses and they’re going to be good,” she nodded against the pillow. “I checked on them. No one will bother with them. They have a chance,” she told him, told herself with a soft wistful tone in her voice.

  “And you?”

  “I’m awake and need the bathroom. Please,” she added with a jangle of her bracelet. She waited, the light turned on and his body left the bed. He took her warmth with him she realized. It had been too, too long since she felt warm. She rubbed her wrist and stretched, long arms out and toes pointed before she pulled herself up and stumbled a little through a yawn and into the bathroom.

  When she came out, food was spread over the low bureau and he s
at with his back to her, hands busily going over the keys on a laptop. And he’d maneuvered the little desk right in front of the door. She sighed and lifted one of the Danish, taking a big bite and reaching for one of the juice bottles. Shaking it, she uncapped it and looked at the screen he had up.

  “Who’s the cute guy someone photo shopped in with me? I haven’t had hair that short in ages.” She hastily swallowed the bite she’d taken, meeting the dark eyes he turned on her. “Was that a growl?” She gaped at him in disbelief.

  “I did not growl.”

  “Dude, you so did growl. I asked about the cute guy…” Her eyes went a little wider when the same growl happened. It came from deep inside him, a rumbling sound and she swore she saw a fang out of the corner of his mouth when he lifted that edge to snarl at her.

  “You don’t recognize him?”

  “No clue, sorry.”

  “You said no one was bothering the people you set out into the world. What about you?”

  “You asked that before. What about me?” She said with a shrug. “I had a plan and you’re screwing with it at the moment.”

  “Shouldn’t you be free and in a safe house?”

  “I – have – a – plan,” she said concisely. “And this ain’t part of it.”

  “Adapt. So…you think they’re interested in you?”

  “The ghoul? I doubt they’ll bother with me. I’m a pain in the ass,” she said without remorse.

  “They’re claiming you’re a person of interest,” he turned to see her shrug.

  “I’m an interesting sort of person…cool…there are no photos of me. Where’d you get that one?” She peered down at the computer, the background not a place she recognized at all.

  “One of many unanswered and confusing questions.”

  And the cute…the guy…in the photo?” She watched as he brought up another photo. “Seriously? A cop?” She laughed and went back for another Danish.

  “Over here,” he gestured to the bed. Ignoring the grimace she gave him, he snapped the cuff in place. “When I get out, we hit the road. If they’re looking for you and I’m missing, someone involved in that facility might get smart and I don’t want that without a lot of distance between us.”