Sacred Burial Grounds (An FBI Romance Thriller (book 2)) (61 page)

As he
gazed down at her lying in the back of his trunk, he touched the pulse in her neck. Good, she was still alive. Her pulse was there slow, but steady. Unlike the deputy, he didn’t give her the full syringe. It was only a quick dose to incapacitate and not kill. Lifting her from the trunk, he couldn’t help but breathe in her delicious scent. Oh, Ethan Blackhawk was very lucky indeed. Placing her on the metal table he used for all his women, he felt completely and totally giddy. His most favorite part was coming soon.

The thrill of the hunt.

There was great pleasure taken as he started to undress her and place her clothes in a paper bag. This was the dangerous part. Trace evidence could be the end of him, and he needed to take extra care with stripping and dressing her. The FBI was clueless as to why he was doing all this, so he needed to be extra diligent to not give them anything to work with at all. A part of him wanted to see Blackhawk’s face, as he found the bag of clothes and wondered if he had violated his precious wife. If trace evidence wasn’t an issue, he might have enjoyed his brother’s wife just to twist the knife. By now, the man would be a complete and total wreck, and he couldn’t help but enjoy that idea.

The raven would
beg to get her back and trade his life.

Back to his work, he focused on the woman on the table.
Slowly, he unbuttoned her shirt and slipped her arms free of it, only to look for the specific spot he wanted to draw the dove. As he ran his fingers down her creamy skin, he could feel his body stir, and he pushed it back down deep.

Now wasn’t the time
.

P
reparing her for the kill must come first. Sex would be nice, but he liked his women awake, willing, and aware.

N
ot passed out and drugged.

Where was the fun in that? Suddenly
, something so completely devious popped into his mind. He knew how to punish the raven further and make him more insane. The killer pulled out Elizabeth’s cell phone, and took some pictures to send later when the game had begun.

Now it was time for the tattoo right over her heart.

“I wonder if you had any clue as to the tattoo, Elizabeth,” he crooned to the unconscious woman. “Why the bull on the last victim you ask?” He giggled at the imaginary conversation they were having. “Well my beautiful dove let me tell you. I’m the bull, and I’m really tired of being excluded from the family. Even that pathetic totem pole doesn’t see me.”

He started sketching the dove with a steady hand. “I snuck onto the reservation
, and I saw the bull. It’s tiny and insulting to just be a small carving over a signature.”

The killer examined the dove
and shrugged.

It was g
ood enough.

“I placed the bull on the last woman to throw you all off. Did I mean my pathetic biological father, or did I mean me? I hope you weren’t too confused. I imag
e it has to be frustrating to run in circles and not have a clue who I am,” he paused to blow on the ink. “When you die, Elizabeth, it’ll be because the three of you are too stupid to figure out who I am.”

Ethan Blackhawk and Callen Whitefox never even noticed him. They didn’t deserve to be known as the raven and the fox. As far as he was concerned
, it was all hype. They were two law enforcement men and not a clue between them. The raven was a stealthy bird and the fox a cunning creature. When he killed them both, he would show everyone that the bull wasn’t invisible. He couldn’t wait to make the medicine wheel and use Elizabeth Blackhawk as his offering. The Great Spirit would be pleased and give him what he wanted most. When he was given the job to carry on for his grandfather as the bear, the shaman of the tribe, all would be complete. He may have only been the bull like his worthless father, but now he would move up the family ladder by cutting out the unimportant ones above him.

When he finished the dove tattoo
, he let it dry, again snapping more pictures. Working on her hair, he started brushing it and dividing it. He would give her braids and make her look the part of an Indian princess. Then, when her husband found her with all of his father’s arrows piercing her heart, he would see the irony and possibly blame his dear old dad. His outsider wife would be the thing that destroyed his brother. All the other women who died were incidentals.

When he adm
itted who he really was to them, they laughed. No one ever believed he was a Blackhawk or cared. The women of the Rez scoffed, and when they finished laughing he had the last chuckle as he killed them all. Had any of them appreciated his bloodline and that he was truly Native, maybe they would have survived and given him a child worthy of being a Blackhawk. None of the women were pure enough in Indian blood, or they would have looked at him and seen the truth. He was Native and not white man.

As his
controlling mother once taught him, ‘
waste not, want not
’ and the bones came in handy. They all were just a means to an end for him.

After killing the first few, he realized he could put their bones to good use. Offerings would give him favor with the spirits. Then before long
, the deaths became addicting. The kill thrilled him almost as much as the hunt and harvest of their bones. What was more perfect than an offering of the most innocent babies?

The stupid women
were all ignorant. All it took was some pretty words and they were willing to get pregnant. Not even a challenge. He wondered if Elizabeth Blackhawk would make him have to work for it.

Oh how he wished he had more time with
her, but his wants would have to wait. She was now part of the game and in the end would be the one thing that destroyed his brother.

As he finished her hair, he looked down at her. Weaving the black
feathers into the braids, he enjoyed his work. She looked very much the part of Indian princess. As long as her eyes were closed and the telltale blue was invisible, one might think she was Native.

“I wish I could show you what love is E
lizabeth. Once you were with me, you would willingly leave Ethan Blackhawk behind in a heartbeat,” he said, and then laid a kiss on her soft lips. Yes, she would have been a delicious conquest if he had the time. Looking at the clock, he wished he could just keep her here a bit longer, but he knew he must continue. There was a schedule.

The killer
pulled out a dress. It was soft deerskin, and it was inscribed with the symbols of life and death. He pulled off her jeans, packed them away, and sat her up to dress. When he was finished he thought about the wedding ring on her hand. He was going to take it, but instead decided to let it go. The blue stones looked very tribal and fitting for her dress.

As he bound her hands in front of her
body tightly, he placed a burlap sack over her face, securing it around her throat just in case the drugs wore off while they travelled.

Making the
Chloral Hydrate had been easy enough once he found the instructions online. All he needed to do was buy the ingredients and go from there. He thought about stealing some, but knew that could get him caught, and he was too smart to get caught. Although, the FBI didn’t appear to hire the brightest or smartest, so he probably would have gotten away with it. Especially since the three of them were running in circles trying to figure out who he was, and why he was killing.

He bound her ankles,
slipping on the deerskin moccasins he had purchased at the gift shop to complete her outfit. Now the fun would be begin soon. 

Lifting her up into his arms, he placed her back
into the trunk and checked the clock. It was time to take Elizabeth into the woods and to his favorite hunting grounds and set the scene.

He took a few pictures of her bound in the trunk with her own phone, again to use
it as torment for her husband. He was careful to turn off the GPS tracking, as he didn’t want them finding them, not yet anyway. Once she was dead and an offering, he’d turn it back on to draw in the brothers. Once Ethan Blackhawk had her location, he’d take his life too when he showed up.

Closing the trunk of the car
, he went to get himself ready. Then they needed to swing by his father’s home to drop off the bag of clothes. 

He was beyond excited, the hunt was about to begin.

                        
       *   *   *

             
Time one p.m.

Hours abducted – four.

Blackhawk sat in his office going over the papers that contained all the information he had regarding the killer. Elizabeth had put most of it together, and he realized without her they’d have nothing. All he could hope was in all the information she’d somehow uncovered the identity of the killer. He was grateful she was his partner, and that she was excellent at her job. As quick as the feeling came it went. Now his partner was gone and he was lost.

His b
rother was down in the tech lab, pushing them hard. When Callen Whitefox offered to go down there and talk to the staff, Ethan Blackhawk was appreciative. There just no conceivable way he could focus yet or face the team. The wall he had constructed to hold back the fear was slowly crumbling as every minute ticked away on his wife’s life.

This is probably why the FBI frowned on married couples working together. There was always that risk that you’d lose your partner in the field, but
then you could always go home to the comfort of a spouse. Now he didn’t have either, and he didn’t know how he was going to get through the next eight hours. This had tripped him up badly. Who would have known the government to have something right for a change? If he found her alive, and the possibility of ‘
IF’
terrified him, she would never be leaving his side again. He swore it then and there even if he had to chain her to his wrist.

On his desk were the morning papers
, haphazardly scattered. Slowly, he began sorting through the mess, just trying to keep his hands and mind busy.

When he moved the expense report he saw the pale yellow envelope
, and it was completely out of place. It was addressed to him, and it was his wife’s handwriting. There was no doubt that she had somehow slipped it into the papers that morning. His heart clenched, and he felt like someone was sitting on his chest. Gently, he ran his finger over the name on the front. Tears threatened as he traced the letters lovingly. What he’d give to hear her call him Cowboy again.

Opening the envelope
, he saw the bunch of sunny daisies on the front, and immediately he was taken back to the second day he’d known her. He picked her a single daisy, and she lovingly placed it in her hair. That moment he fell in love with her. Blackhawk took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to prepare for what was inside. As he opened it, he read the words.

                      Happy Anniversary

Confused, he looked down at his watch to find the date. It was five months to the day, and his wife had remembered. It touched him and hurt him at the same time. Somehow he lost track of what mattered, and she didn’t. Today might be their anniversary, but it might also be the day that he’d be forced to commemorate as the day she was taken from his life. He swore he’d celebrate every month together if he could have her back. All he wanted was one more chance with her. How many times had he said that in five months?

Too many.

Blackhawk kept reading, even though he didn’t think his heart could handle knowing her last words to him.

~ My sexy Cowboy,

I’m the luckiest girl alive. Not only did I marry my true                                love, but my best friend. You’re everything to me, and the last five months have been an adventure that I will never forget. I can’t believe that I get to spend the rest of my life married to the man of my dreams. Before you I didn’t know what love was, and now with you it keeps me going daily. No matter how far apart we are, I still can feel you in my heart. Happy Anniversary.

I love you
and can’t wait to celebrate tonight.

Thank you for giving me an awesome family that I love
.

~
always,

Lyzee
.

Ethan Blackhawk’s eyes filled with tears as he held her card to his chest. Behind the closed offic
e door, he let himself breakdown. He needed to get the weight of it off his shoulders for the moment. Once the dam broke, all the emotion poured from him. Losing her just wasn’t an option to him. No matter what he had to do, he had to find her and bring her home. There would be no Ethan without his Elizabeth. Blackhawk made a promise that if she came back to him, he’d keep her safe and cherish every day he had with her from here on out. He’d do anything to have his family whole and together once more. The tears fell as he lowered his head to his desk. His heart was completely empty and alone.