Three Days To Dead (22 page)

He won’t know where to start. I only told him I was going uptown. He doesn’t know Max, and Max won’t go to Wyatt. He gave his word to not interfere.

Betrayal stabs my heart with its icy knife. Max owes me nothing, but it still hurts. He let the goblins take me. If what Kelsa said is true, they are going to sell me to someone. Or have sold me.

I watch the line of light beneath the door, searching for shadows. Movement. Any indication of life outside of my little prison that smells of mildew and dust. I swallow, but my mouth is dry.

Time passes.

*    *    *

Bright light startles me. I squeeze my eyes shut against the glare sending bolts of pain into my head. Feet shuffle. The pain lessens, but never quite dissipates. I slit one eyelid open, testing. The light is bearable. Both eyes this time. I want to rub them, wipe away bits of sleep, but my hands are still bound.

A goblin female crouches next to me. Her black hair is loose and wild, framing red eyes and crimson lips that pull back in a snarling smile. I don’t recognize her. I’ve only ever fought and killed males. Goblin
society is matriarchal for two reasons—females are born one in every fifty, and species procreation requires the death of the male. Only the strongest, battle-proven warriors are allowed the honor of mating and continuing the goblin lines. Like a bee and its stinger, fertilization is fast and deadly. Females are revered and honored, and rarely venture out in public.

They certainly don’t do their own dirty work.

“Evangeline Stone,” she says. It is a challenge as much as a greeting.

I don’t know her face, but I know her voice. “Kelsa.” It comes out somewhat garbled. I’m thirsty and my throat is tight, but I won’t ask for water.

“The great Evy Stone,” she says, as though I haven’t spoken. “Murderer of goblins and vampires and those you think beneath you. I’ve long wanted to meet you.”

“Lucky me.”

She arches a slender eyebrow. Long-nailed fingers slip into her stylish leather coat and produce a straight razor. She opens it with careful precision. I curl my hands around the cuff chains. My stomach flutters. She runs one fingertip down the sharp edge of the razor. I tense, but there is nowhere to go. The cuffs dig into my wrists and ankles. I grunt.

Kelsa smiles. “There is no escape from this, child.”

“Why?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Why what?”

Coy bitch. I won’t give her the satisfaction.

“I’ve seen what your kind does to mine,” she says. She trails the tip of the razor down the center of my abdomen, too light to pierce the skin but hard enough
that I feel every centimeter of her touch. I look at her, not at her hands.

“I’ve seen the way you kill, slitting them open from groin”—she presses just below my belly button, slicing the skin, and I cry out—“to sternum.” Swiftly her hand moves, drawing another fiery line straight down between my breasts. I hold my breath. Don’t make a sound. “It’s a shame, really. You humans have such spunk.”

Agony spears my left thigh, matched immediately on my right. Tears spark in my eyes. I bite down hard on my tongue, concentrating on that self-imposed pain. I try hard to ignore the inflicted wounds. I feel blood, oozing hot and thick from every cut. I won’t scream. I can’t.

She must be taunting me. If I’m to be sold, why damage me now? It makes no sense. Collectors rarely pay for broken merchandise.

Kelsa leans down, too far away for me to head-butt her, but close enough to smell her breath—moist and sharp, like metal. “We will have fun, you and I.” Fire bursts across my stomach and I wince. “Oh yes, Evy Stone. Two days of fun … for me.”

Two days? Until my buyer shows up? Until she gets bored and lets me go? Until her vampire alliance hits its boiling point? Questions without answers, agony without relief—this is my life now.

She holds up the razor, its edge coated with my blood. As red as her eyes. She presses the blade to my cheek and, in time, I do scream.

*    *    *

Time is lost to an endless cycle of light and dark. She comes and goes without warning—always her and no one else. I doze; she wakes me. I find no rest between our sessions, no respite from the anguish of her torture. She is creative in her methods. Meticulous in drawing blood. Expert in causing pain. In another life, I may have respected her for it. Today I despise her.

The mattress is soaked with blood and sweat and urine, and it sticks to my skin. Their fetid odors mingle with the wrenching stink of vomit. Burnt flesh lingers on the edge of my senses, but those wounds are old. Fire seems like days ago, though I know it is only hours. Lights come on and the pain resumes. Lights go off and the throbbing takes over.

I think of Wyatt in those brief moments alone. The soft caress of his hand on my breasts. The fullness of him as he slides in and out of me, loving me. He will come for me. He must be searching. I don’t care if the Triads find me first. As long as the suffering ends.

The door swings open. I squint, waiting for the light assault. Kelsa stands in the doorway, backlit. Behind her, something shifts.

“You intrigue me, Evy Stone,” she says. “You endure so much, and yet you don’t ask why. You don’t demand a reason for your suffering. Many lesser women would have broken long ago. I admire you for that.”

“Go fuck yourself,” I hiss.

She laughs. “You just don’t see it, do you?”

“Don’t wanna. Don’t care.”

“Of course you do, Evy. You care about him.”

A chill worms down my spine. Shivers ripple across
my stomach, harden my nipples. She can’t say it. If she says she has Wyatt, too—

“Don’t worry, child; he’ll find you. Just as he’s meant to, but it will be too late to save you. Too late for the poor, lovesick fool.”

She’s going to kill me and leave me for Wyatt to find. God, this will destroy him.

Kelsa enters the room, but her shadow remains in the hallway, just out of my sight. She crosses to the foot of the mattress and squats. Unlocks the shackles around my ankles. My legs are too weak to use against her. I want to kick, but find no strength in the torn and broken flesh. She drags a nail along the sliced sole of my foot, and I shriek.

“You’ve been such a good sport, I hate for our time together to end,” she says. “The next step needs tending right now, but don’t fret. I’m leaving you with a friend.”

Leaving me? But why? I haven’t changed hands since falling into Kelsa’s. Is this lurking shadow the buyer who has yet to claim his prize?

She waves her hand. The backlit figure shambles forward. Bile scorches my throat, threatens to spill down my lips. A goblin male leers above me, his oily skin shimmering in the hall light. He is naked, the hooked tip of his penis dangling low between his crooked legs. His eyes dance with lusty fire, and I understand. There is no buyer. He’s here to kill me.

Only once in my career did I serve a warrant on a goblin for the rape of a human female. I’ll never forget the blood, or the frozen horror on her terrified face. For two weeks after, she haunted my dreams, the misery of her fate burned into my memory. The creature
that killed her became one of Kelsa’s groin-to-sternum victims. I took great joy in killing it.

I close my eyes. Kelsa’s familiar footsteps whisper across the floor.

“Good-bye, Evy Stone,” she says.

The door closes with a thump. A lock snicks into place. The mattress shifts as weight is added to it.

I think of Wyatt and cling to his memory as my world descends into agony like I’ve never known before.

My fists closed over warm flesh, twisting and squeezing and trying to push it away. Blood filled my mouth, metallic and hot. I screamed, but no sound came out. My throat was hoarse, raw. I pushed, but he wouldn’t let go.

“Evy, stop! It’s Alex.”

The familiar voice finally invaded my foggy mind and pushed away the last remnants of memory. The small room in the basement of the train station faded, replaced by the luxury of the Sanctuary. Incense replaced urine; warmth replaced cold. The agony fled as well, leaving me empty. Shivering.

“Evy, it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

I fell against Alex’s chest, letting strong arms fold me into his embrace. I pressed my face into his neck and sobbed. I cried for the woman who had died in that room, tortured and left for dead. Only one, final piece of the puzzle was missing—my rescue and moment of death.

It would come, just as the other memories had.
It was only a matter of time, and I didn’t want to remember any more today.

Alex stroked my hair and whispered. I couldn’t hear him, but it didn’t matter. The words were not important. I just needed his strength until I found my own again and the memories drifted back into the past. As I brought my emotions back under control, the torrent of tears subsided. My head ached. My nose was stuffy. My entire face felt swollen, but I could think straight.

“I am sorry,” Isleen said. “I did not realize how overwhelming your memories would be.”

“It’s okay,” I rasped. “I needed to do that. I had to remember it.”

“You said things while you were in the trance, Evangeline. You mentioned the name Istral. What does that mean to you?”

I studied Isleen’s face. The intensity in her stare surprised me. I realized why she had seemed so familiar at our first meeting. It wasn’t because we’d met before, but because I’d seen someone who looked just like her. “Istral was your sister, wasn’t she?”

Isleen nodded. “She has been missing this past week. I have feared for her.”

“I’m sorry, Isleen, the goblins killed her. I was there; I saw it.”

She bowed her head, and I found myself torn between wanting to comfort her and not caring for her pain. She was a vampire, for crying out loud. Maybe my ally today, but she could easily be my enemy tomorrow.

“The goblins were holding me on purpose,” I said, putting the clues in a row, trying to make sense of it
all. “The female told me as much. They wanted Wyatt to find me, to know what had been done to me, but why? Why incite his hatred?”

“To divert his attention, maybe?” Alex offered.

“Maybe, but they should have picked a better target. I wasn’t exactly the poster child for the Triads, at that …” A scenario presented itself, one I had briefly considered that morning with Rufus. One that pointed to so many truths I didn’t know how to face.

“What is it, Evy?”

“What if it
was
all a diversion?” I said. “I know someone set me up for Ash and Jesse’s deaths. I was framed for their murders, which put me on the Triads’ Most Wanted list, right? So they’re spending time looking for me, instead of watching the Dregs. Other stuff, like a potential alliance, gets missed. Wyatt finds out about the alliance from Isleen, which makes him a threat. I’m already on the shit list, so kidnapping me keeps Wyatt off the alliance scent and looking elsewhere. They probably hoped that finding me torn to pieces would make him crazy enough to give up the rumors.”

“It makes sense, save one part,” Isleen said.

“Which part?”

“The part about making him crazy. Goblins do not understand mental illness or grief, but they do understand the concept of revenge. Hence your treatment under their care. They wanted Truman to find you, but not to grieve for you or to lose himself in that grief.”

“Then, what?” Her explanation made sense, but she hadn’t given me an alternative. “They wanted him to seek revenge for me?”

“Perhaps. But this is merely speculation on my part, as it is speculation on yours.”

Damn her and her good points. “So let’s end the speculation. We need to track down this Kelsa and extract the truth from her. Preferably with a straight razor.”

“We’re going to see goblins now?” Alex asked. His look was black.

“The offer to stay behind is still good,” I replied. “The things she did to me, Alex … If we get caught—”

“I’m staying with you, Evy. I said I would.”

I smiled, energized by his steadfastness. “Thank you.”

“We require another mode of transportation,” Isleen said. “My car is damaged and quite noticeable.”

“I guess you don’t keep spares in any of the empty storefronts?”

“This is a place of Sanctuary, not a used-car lot.”

Sarcasm from a Blood. Who knew? I stood up and nearly fell over when the room tilted. Alex looped an arm around my waist to steady me. I waited for the world to stop spinning before I gently pushed him away. I rubbed my hands over my face and through my hair. I still felt the cuts and burns, even though my skin was unmarred. It was like post-traumatic stress in fast-forward.

“We’ll just have to play this by ear, then,” I said. “Let’s go.”

*    *    *

“There is a serious flaw in your plan, Evangeline,” Isleen said as we left the mall the same way we’d
entered. “We do not know how or where to find Kelsa.”

I rolled my eyes and ignored the statement of the obvious. This time though, I studied what I’d previously assumed to be a wall. It was a cleverly disguised entrance that made me think of the old Road Runner cartoons where a fake train tunnel was painted on a rock and the Coyote smashed right into it. Vampires were clever; I had to give them that.

The sun was dipping low on the horizon. The passage of time alarmed me. “Kelsa may have to wait,” I said. “I gotta get to that phone booth before dusk.”

“You still trust this Rufus guy?” Alex asked.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. But I have to do something proactive to find Wyatt. I just need to know that he’s still alive.”

I started down the sidewalk, unsure of my exact direction, but determined to find a car I could steal. Tufts of grass grew in the cracked parking lot, some of them sporting early dandelions. I plucked one as I passed and started tearing the tender yellow petals off one at a time. Something to keep my hands busy.

Half a dozen yards from the exit, I heard a distant hum. The air stirred. I stopped. Alex crashed into me, and I stumbled a step.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I hear it, as well,” Isleen said before I could answer him.

I looked up at the darkening sky. Thick clouds covered much of the blue. A bird flew too high to be disturbed by what had caught my attention. My stomach knotted.