Enemy Lover (36 page)

Looking for me?” Lazarus asked from the shadows.

Jax smiled to herself. Her tactic had worked: Feign vulnerability and the bad guy will reveal himself. Slowly she turned around and came face-to-face with evil incarnate.

“I applaud your tenacity, Miss Cassidy,” he said. “But I must chide you on your stupidity.”

Jax cocked a brow.

“Only an idiot would walk the streets of Oakland late at night and dare me to show myself.”

“Ah.” Jax smiled and slowly moved her hand across her chest. “Why don’t you come closer. I double dare you.”

The bastard actually snorted. “Bullets cannot hurt me.”

Well, fuck,
she thought. If that was true, she was in for a world of hurt.
If
it was true. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

He was as fast as Marcus. Maybe faster. Before she was halfway to her pistol, he grabbed her hands and hoisted her a foot above the sidewalk. He threw her hard against the building wall behind her. She hit with a sickening thud. Pain flashed through her nervous system. It took her several moments to gain her wits and realize nothing vital was broken.

She looked up into his demonic stare. She slid her
right hand into her pants pocket and gripped the stake there.

He smiled, showing long yellow fangs. “Now, Miss Cassidy, we’ ll see what you’ re really made of.” He squatted down to face her. In a quick, underhanded jab, she stabbed him in the chest with the stake. Lazarus hissed in shock. His eyes widened.

“Did you really think I was so naïve?” She grabbed the other stake and shoved it through his throat. Blood gurgled as he tried to breathe.

She kicked him away from her with her boot. As he tumbled backward, he yanked the stake from his throat, then the one from his chest. As he stood, he threw them to the ground. The blood flow immediately dried up.

“Did you really think I was so weak?” he sneered.

He backhanded her so hard that her body spun like a top out of control and she crashed into the wall again. This time her head hit first with a terrible thunk. Then her world went black.

Jax moaned as another violent wave of electricity ripped through her body. She screamed and the voltage amped up. Her body jerked as she hung, helpless, like the catch of the day. She dangled, a foot off the floor, from chains attached to large meat hooks in what smelled like an abandoned meat-packaging plant. Her torturer moved the cloth-covered shock paddles from her belly, then ran a sharp-tipped finger across the rise of her breast. Jax kicked at him. He laughed and moved away from her. He set the paddles on a table with a few other undesirable items, including a meat hook and cleaver.

Jax stared at her feet, her limp, sweaty hair hanging
in her face, trying not to whimper at the thought of that cleaver cutting through her skin. Tamping down on the overwhelming need to retch, she slowly lifted her chin and stared at the bastard in front of her. He made no effort to hide what he was. A vampire. Heartless.

If she’d met him on the street, she might have given him a second look. He was southern California handsome, a surfer with shaggy blonde hair. His red-rimmed brown eyes ruined the look.

“Who are you?” Jax hoarsely asked. He grinned. His fangs glowed under the harsh light.

“I’m Gideon.”

“Where’s Lazarus?”

Deep, blood-curling screams echoed into the room from somewhere down the corridor. Jax’s skin chilled even more, and her heart pounded so hard that she almost passed out. Gideon smiled. “He’s a little busy at the moment, but he asked me to soften you up for him.”

Another round of harsh screams rent the air. They were followed by a familiar voice cursing Lazarus for the bastard he was.

“Shane,” she whispered. Despite their predicament, hope washed over her.

He was still alive!

“A friend of yours?” Gideon asked, laughing. “Your relief is premature.”

She narrowed her eyes at his arrogance, then closed them to shut him out. To gather her wits.

Jesus, help me,
she prayed.
Help me think. Process.

She opened her eyes, urging herself on.
Look, Jax. See where you are. Find what you can use to gain the advantage.

The room they were in wasn’t large. The bloodstained cinder-block wall to her back was as close as the ones at her sides. Maybe six feet deep. In front of her, about fifteen feet away, was a large gray metal door. She looked up at a concrete ceiling with thick steel rafters supporting large hooks; she hung from the middle of the three.

“Kill chamber,” she muttered.

Gideon looked up from the tools he was perusing. “Yes, a kill chamber. But unlike the swine who bled out here in relative peace, you’ re going to bleed out slow and painful. Unless, of course, you cooperate.” He picked up a thick orange hose from the floor and pulled back the lever behind the nozzle. “Please, don’ t,” he grinned.

A harsh spray of cold water doused her. Jax held her breath and steeled herself against the hard stream. When she turned her face away, he followed her with the hose. She gasped, gulping for air, getting a mouthful of water. She coughed and gagged as more water slammed down her throat. Her body jerked wildly as spasms coursed through her. She twisted away and, finally, he stopped, leaving her to suffer in stubborn silence.

Her chest burned from swallowing water. The pain was unlike anything she’d felt before. She knew she was going to die. Almost wished for it. And for some crazy reason, that made her think of Marcus.

Marcus.

But that was foolish. Lazarus was his creator. His mentor. He actually believed that what they were doing was for the good of the American people.

After what seemed like an hour, she was able to breathe in a half-normal fashion. “What do you want?” she croaked, barely able to see him through the hair
plastered to her face. She turned her head to move it away but only managed to smear more of it in her eyes.

Laughing, he turned the hose back on her, the force of the spray pushing the hair from her face. “Is that better?”

Jax shook her head as another fit of coughs wracked her entire body. Her throat was so raw that she could taste her own blood.

“How did you meet Marcus Cross?” he demanded.

She opened her mouth, but it took several tries for her to speak coherently. When she did, she put as much disdain into the words as she could. “We bumped into each other one night.”

He looked up at her and smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant gesture.

“Did you trade blood with him?”

“You’ re getting a little personal, aren’t you?” Jax answered, knowing she was going to pay for it.

He picked up the cardiac panels. She steeled herself. Without a word, he pressed them to her belly and hit the switch. She screamed as the heat slashed through her organs. Her body jerked and jackknifed in agony. He stepped back. Her flailing body stilled. Jax closed her eyes and mentally tried to collect herself, but the electric impulses still ricocheting in her body would not allow her to concentrate.

Her strength waned.

She could not take much more. Her heart was beating so fast and so furiously that she thought it would explode. She felt the warm coppery blood well in her mouth. She had bitten her tongue.

He was getting off on torturing her, that was for sure,
but he wanted to get off another way too. She’d rather die than endure that. She glanced at the table, where her Glock lay beside her crushed cell phone, the last of her wooden stakes, the cleaver and the meat hook. If she could find a way—

“You can either be respectful and answer my questions without the sarcasm, or I can—” He tapped the paddles to her belly and gave her a hot shot. Jax bit her lip to keep from screaming. “—keep turning up the heat. Your choice.”

Her choice would be to rip his head off and feed it to him, but she needed to change tactics here. Defiance wasn’t working. Maybe cooperation would. Jax nodded.

“I knew you’d see it my way. Now, tell me how you met Marcus Cross.”

Slowly, Jax opened her eyes. “I told you, we bumped into each other, at a club in Vegas.”

He considered her, looking mildly surprised, but then shrugged. “Then what happened?”

Jax bit back a hoarse laugh, unable to help herself. “What happens in Veg—”

He cursed and shoved her so hard that her back hit the cinder-block wall with a bone-crushing thud. “Do you have a death wish?” he hissed. “Who are you really? Who do you work for?”

Jax’s body twisted and came flying back toward him from the velocity of the hit. He grabbed her legs with one hand and grabbed the cleaver with the other. He pressed it to the crease of her right thigh and groin. “Tell me what I want to know or I start chopping off limbs.”

Jax nodded. “I’m an indepen—” She screamed when
he slashed her with the cleaver. The burn was so excruciating that she nearly passed out from the pain.

She closed her eyes and tried valiantly to gather her wits, but the only thing that came to mind was Marcus. Only he could save her from this torture.

She opened her eyes and, through the haze of blood and tears, watched the man beneath her literally foam at the mouth with excitement.

He grinned, flashing his fangs. Stepping away and setting the cleaver down on the table, he looked back up at her and licked his lips. His tongue was long and thin, reminding her of a snake. “The colonel bade me soften you up.” He grabbed her foot and yanked her boot and sock off, flinging them to the wet floor. “I think you’ re sufficiently soft. Now, I want a taste.” He brought her foot to his lips and, before she could react, he sunk his teeth into her instep.

Jax screamed and jerked against the chains. If she didn’t get out of this now he would tear her apart piece by piece. Summoning what strength she had left, not really expecting it to make a difference, she twisted and kicked him in the head with the heel of her other boot. To her surprise, he cursed, releasing her and spurring her on.

She twisted again and tightened the chains, raising herself up higher. This time, she kicked him in the teeth.

He screeched, grabbing his face. Blood oozed through his fingers.

The adrenaline pumped hard through her. She suddenly remembered whose blood she had in her. Without hesitating, Jax did a gymnast’s move and swung her lower body up to where the chain hung over the large
meat hook. She grabbed it, lifted the chain, and let gravity bring her down. As she came down, she threw the chain out, catching Gideon around the neck, and as she fell to the ground, he fell, too.

“No—” he gasped, making her grin.

“Oh, yeah,” she muttered. “It’s on now, you rabid bat.”

Like a constrictor, she twined her legs and the chain around him as she grabbed for one of the high-voltage paddles. She pressed it to his face and hit the switch. His body flinched as he screamed. Jax let go and jumped up. She grabbed her pistol from the table and leveled it directly at his heart. “Move another muscle and I’ ll kill you.”

He rallied, grinned a macabre grin, yanked the chains off his neck, and threw them at her. She ducked and pulled the trigger.

Stunned, Gideon stood motionless, then looked down. A bloodstain mushroomed dead center from his heart out. He looked up at her and Jax tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. “Silver-tipped wooden bullet through the heart. Sayonara, Sunshine,” she hoarsely said.

Gideon dropped to his knees and began to smoke. The smell was disgusting. Jax coughed and put her hand over her nose and mouth, watching in horrified fascination as he turned into a piece of human toast.

She shoved the pistol in between the small of her back and pants, then slipped the stake into her right thigh pocket. Grabbing the cleaver, she shoved it down the front thigh pocket of her pants and hung the meat hook from one of her back pockets, then took her pistol out again. Holding it before her, she tried to keep her hands
from shaking and moved as fast as her ravaged body would allow her to.

The screams from down the hall had subsided. Carefully, she pushed the metal door open and peeked out into the corridor. Clear. There was only one door to the right and across the corridor. The screams had to have come from there. She made her way to the door, then carefully opened it.

Jax caught her breath. Tears sprang to her eyes. She fought back the bile in her throat. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “Shane.”

He hung naked and crucified from a metal cross. She closed the door behind her, shoved the gun down the small of her back again, and hurried to him.

“Shane,” she whispered as she came to stand before him. She nearly slipped and fell in the pooling blood at his feet. His head was tied back with constantine wire. Blood covered his face, but she could see a socket where his left eye had been.

Her stomach roiled. Thick meat hooks pierced through his shoulders and thighs, pinning him to the structure. His stomach had been savagely hacked; part of his intestines hung out. “Shane,” she croaked.

He moaned, barely audible, but he moaned. He was still alive!

For a crazy, hysterical moment, all she could think was that Lazarus was far better at his job than Gideon had been.

Finally, she retched.

The air in the room became too heavy, too thick for her to breathe. “It’s OK,” she forced herself to murmur. “I’m here now. You’ ll be OK, Shane.”

What could she do for him? Her cell was destroyed. She didn’t know where she was. . . . But wait . . .

The GPS chip! The one in her bra.

She hurried and took her shirt off. Yanking her bra off, she tied it around his right ankle. Eventually they would find him, and if God was on their side today, he’d still be alive.

“Please, God,” she prayed, marveling that she’d done it several times in the past few days. “Let Dante find us.”

But she had to do her part too. Fearfully, she looked over her shoulder. Any second now, Lazarus would return. Then no one would be able to help them.

She needed to get Shane out of here.

She put her shirt back on and looked behind Shane, careful not to slip in the blood.

So much blood.

The cross was suspended by chains connected to a manual pulley. Jax grabbed the lever and unlocked the mechanism. Then, with every bit of strength she had left, she slowly turned the wheel and lowered Shane to the ground. He moaned as the hooks in his shoulders and thighs moved when their backs hit the floor.