Cold Read

by Renee Joiner

  “I know.”

  “What now?”

  “Well, admit defeat?” he tried to joke, but she could see he was despondent. “I can get my sister back, that’s all that should matter. But—”

  “You were hoping to save the others,” she finished for him. “And hoping to catch him....”

  “The issue is not if I’ll catch him. It’s when. I just wanted to do it before anyone got hurt. It sounds horrible, but I was aching for him to take the bait. I knew you were putting yourself in danger. I feel crap for even having entertained the idea of him taking you. But I would have hunted him down, right to his lair, and bring him to justice. I would have prevented any unnecessary bloodshed. That might not happen now. I know I’ll catch him, though. He’d best prepare for the worst when I do.” The resolution in his voice almost convinced her that he would, but from what her aunt told her, she could not help but wonder how idealistic the notion was.

  “How would you do that?” she asked.

  “His entire financial history has been ripped apart for clues. If he does get the ransom money, then we’ll nail him on any transaction he could make. We know where his debt lies, so we know where to look.”

  “You... you do know what I told you about him, though, right?”

  “Ha-ha. That he’s a guy full of magic tricks? Yeah. I’m still wrapping my mind around that one. I don’t think I totally buy it yet.”

  “Daniel. I want to be real with you for a moment,” she said, gently placing her hand on his shoulder. She felt his muscle tense in reaction. He locked eyes with her. Anything could have happened at that moment. It was sudden and unexpected, yet an undeniable sexual tension hung between them at that moment, fraught with so much frustration and uncertainty. They were at the cusp of giving in, but neither of them did. Instead, she forced herself to press on.

  “All of this is real. My supernatural heritage, this other side to the world you know, and the existence of manipulative forces such as Max Pearce. I’m not entirely sure what he is capable of. Still, you may find that tracking him is going to offer more hassles than you originally envisioned. I don’t say this to dissuade you. But please, don’t underestimate him by regarding him as anything less than he is. He is dangerous.”

  “Whatever he is, he has already proved how he uses this power. Inconspicuously and with abusive intent. It classifies him as scum in my mind—scum who’s willing to take someone I love and threaten her life. I don’t care how dangerous he is. Men like him make the same mistakes eventually.”

  There were many things that Tasia wanted to say, but she lacked the words with which to express herself. He was so sure of himself, so convinced despite the odds. Why would she attempt to break that spirit? So, she simply nodded, trying to look affirming as she squeezed his shoulder.

  “Um... well, hey. It’s late. Let’s get you home.” The car roared to life as he turned the key in the ignition. “I don’t know what tomorrow will hold, but I’ll have the money for the ransom by then.” He pulled away, slowly driving past the house; before he finally accepted the cards they had been dealt.

  “Wait, but we can still try. He might be edgy since you’ve been quiet on your end regarding the money. He might be desperate and come for me if we still give him the opportunity.”

  “You’re not wrong. But I don’t want this riding on you anymore. I’ll retrace all our steps and make sure I didn’t miss anything. If another clue does pop up that leads me straight to him, then I’ll jump on it if time allows. My alternative: use the point of exchange as the way to coax him out of the hole he’s hiding in. I can get my sister back, find where he’s keeping the others, and take him in. There is a lot of logistics, though. I’ll need to plan and gather my resources.”

  “I can still help, Daniel. I know you’re pressed for time, but why not fight fire with fire? Foresight is maybe the only thing that I could have offered to you up until this point but, inside, I can do a whole lot more.” She was pleading with him. She could hear it in her own voice. By excluding her, he was barring her attempt to save him.

  He parked the car in front of her home. So absorbed was she, with him and the moment, that she didn’t realize how fast they had gone through the city and neighborhood. “Hey. I know you’re trying to help. I appreciate what you’re willing to do for my sister. What you’re willing to do for me. To put you in danger, though, is just not worth it. It’s late. You’ve hardly had enough sleep in your past four days off. Go to bed, and we’ll chat in the morning. Not all is lost.”

  He did something then that she didn’t expect in the least. He leaned over and gently parted her lips with his own. Tasia had entertained that moment more than once in her head, wondering what it would be like—passionate, tender, comforting. It was all of it, and then something completely different altogether. It ended before she could fathom what had happened. “Goodnight,” he whispered.

  “Goodnight.” She climbed out of the car and watched as he drove away.

  It was the type of kiss that left a woman forever in the throes of desire. It left her forever wanting. Old words once shared by her mother, that whenever Tasia remembered them, she always wondered whether it was the rusalka’s equivalent to love. Her kind often induced infatuation but hardly experienced it in return. Her attempts may have been to change Daniel’s heart, but his spell had proved more powerful than her own.

  But his plan was doomed to fail. So close to its quarry, a witch was sure to exact vengeance if their demands were not met. If Daniel did intend to deceive, then Max would unleash his full might before being taken. If their leverage had proven void at that point, then they would gladly dispose of it, cutting their losses to move on. It was an unequivocal consequence. Her experiences with witches had never proved the opposite.

  She decided to take her contemplations indoors as opposed to entertaining them outside. Standing in front of her door, she realized that she didn’t have her key on her. Her pockets were empty, and except for her phone, she noticed that she had gone about her day without much on her person. Her mind raced to figure out where she could have left it, resigning herself that it was probably somewhere within Daniel’s car. Alternatively, she did not discount the possibility that she had possibly locked herself out.

  A few hanging planters hung suspended above her deck, in a curated corner that she used for reading. She did find her chair’s positioning odd but nonetheless climbed onto it to reach inside the pot where she had hidden the key.

  It was gone. A sense of dread filled her.

  Something hard cracked at the back of her skull. Her vision failed, and the last thing she saw was a dark figure looming over her before she was swallowed by oblivion.

  Thirteen

  Body of Proof

  “She’s been out since last night. Do you think she’s okay?”

  “She’s breathing. Look, you nearly miss it at first, but her chest is rising and falling.”

  Light flooded Tasia’s eyes as she cracked open her lids. A splitting ache protested at the back of her head, and she winced as it spread through her skull. She awoke nonetheless, faintly perceiving the whispers exchanged between two voices.

  “Oh my god, she’s moving!” one of them whispered.

  Tasia waited until the pain subsided ever so slightly before coming to an upright position. She opened her eyes, looking to her left. Her vision was met with bars. She reached out instinctively, testing whether what she saw was real. The cold bite of metal met her fingertips and thrust her back in a state of full sobriety. She brought herself upright, taking in the full extent of her situation. She was trapped in a cage.

  “Hey, honey. It’s okay. Just please don’t freak out. We need to keep quiet.” It was a woman’s voice, and looking in front of her, Tasia could see hazel eyes staring from beneath a dark head of hair. As the features registered in her mind, dull moments were reignited. She recalled a hairbrush, a photo, and a blue truck in an open field.

  “Robin?” Tasia asked tentatively.


  The woman across from her grabbed onto the bars, bringing her face right up to her cage door. “You—you know my name?”

  “I’ve known about you for some time now. We’ve been looking for you,” Tasia answered.

  “Who’s we?” another girl asked, and Tasia caught the flash of red hair before another face appeared.

  “Me and... my partner.” She realized her voice was too high pitched, so she brought it down to a whisper. “He’s FBI.”

  “Oh my god... Oh my god! You need to help us, please!” the woman named Robin pleaded.

  “FBI. Hmph. You’ve been played for some time.”

  In the cage at the far end, she saw a figure sitting with her back to the rest from the shadowy corner. The tone was hardened and almost desolate, and Tasia could not help but wonder how long the woman had been trapped there.

  “I guess this is the most cliché question to ask when we find ourselves in this predicament, but where are we?”

  “Your guess is as good as ours,” the redhead answered. At first, Tasia hadn’t noticed the sense of apathy that appeared to lace the other two women’s tone, save for Robin. Yet, hearing it again, Tasia thought it strange that someone who had been captured would seem almost nonchalant about it.

  From what she could gather, they were in a cabin. Sparse furniture dotted the far side of the room, while five cages occupied the other. Wait... five?

  Tasia’s head spun around to see the other cage right beside her. So drawn was her attention by her fellow captives that she had hardly noticed the lack of sound emanating from it. Yet there, on the cage floor, was another figure. His face was mostly hidden by how he was positioned, but she could faintly make out the gaunt features of his face.

  “You said you were FBI?” Robin asked. There was hope in her voice, and it invariable invigorated her spirit more than the others.

  “My friend is. I was just assisting him on the case.”

  “I see that turned out well for you,” the redhead remarked snidely.

  “Saoirse, stop being a bitch! What are you trying to prove?” Robin asked defensively.

  “That it’s better to accept this and harden up. It’s the only way to think clearly through all of this. Hey, the new girl is still luckier than some of us,” Saorise said, indicating to the cage with the motionless figure.

  “What happened to him?” Tasia asked. “How long has he been out like that?”

  “Ever since he was brought back in,” Robin answered. “That was nearly a day ago. We’ve been trying to get Max to wake up, but—”

  “Wait! What?” Tasia exclaimed, her head flying back in his direction. “Max?”

  “Yeah. I—I’m worried. All the cruelty has been directed at him ever since we arrived. He would be taken out for hours and then brought back broken. He would hardly speak. It took us forever to even get a name.” Robin said.

  Tasia noticed it then, the bruises and the discoloration on the bits of skin that was exposed. It was in stark contrast to the rest of them. None of the women looked like captives. None of them had been harmed, save perhaps for some emotional trauma. Whatever scars they had were unseen. For what they lacked, Max appeared to more than make up for. “Robin, I don’t understand. You didn’t know this man at all?”

  “Um...n—no. Should I?”

  Tasia’s was more confused than she had ever been. It caused her head to ache. “We...we needed to look into your backstory in an attempt to get a lead. Gathering the facts, we came to know that you and Max may have had a relationship.”

  She was quiet for a moment before the realization finally struck her. “Oh... that was... a different guy. Maxwell, actually. He... it didn’t work out in the end. He grew distant,” she accounted, almost solemnly.

  It didn’t make sense. The ranch owner, Marshall, had mentioned a couple. One of them had undoubtedly been Robin. The other had to be Max. Or then, this Maxwell. He must have kidnapped her that day. In the timeline of incidences, it fits in and corresponded. “Robin, then who took you?”

  “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “None of us do.”

  Tasia felt confused as she looked over at the man. Maxwell. Max. Different people. Could we really have been this wrong? Still, Tasia didn’t understand how Robin couldn’t recall her kidnapping. Was this part of the smoke and mirrors routine the witch had been pulling? Was it this other man, Maxwell, who had conveniently reinvented the narrative of a man who was consumed by his childhood?

  “This can’t be him. This can’t be Max. We thought—we thought he was the one who did all this.”

  “Max?” Saoirse exclaimed. “Please. He’s a timid guy. He couldn’t overpower a lamb if he tried. If our captor made you believe it was him, then they’re smarter than you thought. Also doesn’t give me much faith for what you were trying to pull. Max was raised with a victim mentality. He was the perfect captive. The perfect one to abuse as well.”

  “Stop it. You hardly knew him!” Robin protested.

  “You heard him that night, the same as we all did when he drawled in his sleep. He’s seen some shit. He’s more familiar with that cage than any of us. That’s why he was treated like an animal.”

  “How come? Why were none of you treated in the same way? Your clothes look brand new. You all look clean, unharmed, well-nourished. Yet, you’re in a cage. Explain that.” Tasia asked.

  This time, the woman to the far end answered. “If we knew the psychology behind a kidnapper, don’t you think we would have figured a way out? Her dark face held a kind of stalwart resignation that Tasia had only ever seen in a few people, Daniel included. She didn’t look to be all that imposing, but she had a quiet strength to her that made her seem more durable than the rest. “Our kidnapper is silent and unpredictable. And with no face to tie to him, we have no idea how to predict what happens next. That’s a crueler game than physical torture. We don’t know when what happened to him—or Sarah—will happen to us.”

  “Sarah!” Tasia had nearly forgotten about Daniel’s sister as she was trying to take in what she was told. “She’s the other captive. Where is she? Is she safe?”

  The same woman, still unnamed, answered. “We don’t know. I can’t answer either of those questions. You want to know if she’s okay. Well, she was like the rest of us. Nothing was ever done to her. Why was she the only one taken? I don’t know. She disappeared. You replaced her.”

  “You didn’t see her being taken, did you?”

  “No. We never know when someone comes in or leaves. Somehow, they sedate us. When we wake, someone is either gone or has come back. Before, it only used to be him. This time, it was different. Robin was gone, you appeared, and Max came back worse than ever.”

  The more she heard, the more she had to bring herself to believe that their kidnapping suspect was lying right next to her, locked up as she was. Even worse. Meanwhile, the real one was rampant. All the mental energy invested in visualizing Max as the culprit had been wasted. Their new suspect was now an enigma, warped once again by mystery and dead leads.

  “So, what kind of contingency did you have in place in the event you got captured,” Saoirse remarked passively.

  “Being captured was the contingency,” she answered boldly before standing up. “As for how to escape… well, I knew that might take a bit of adaptability.” She removed a bobby pin from her hair, allowing loose strands to fall to the side of her face. Bending her knee, she investigated the lock before starting to pick at it.

  “What are you doing?” Robin asked, surprised.

  “Getting us out of here.”

  “Look, whether you’re brave or stupid, I don’t know. But we don’t know what the hell is out there even if you get us out. There could be a couple of them.”

  “What makes you think there’s more than one,” Tasia asked calmly.

  “There’s an entire courtyard outside, with eyes planted everywhere. No fence, no other cages—just the ones we’re in. When they let us out of the cages, they let us al
l out, in full view. We’re not underground or hidden very well. We’re in a cabin. How the hell do they keep us under control if there is only one of them running a place as big as this?”

  “Psychology,” Tasia answered bluntly, right before her cage door swung open. “The biggest weapon your kidnapper has is its unpredictability. It’s the uncertainty that keeps you in check. They flashed their teeth frighteningly by making an example of one of you, but they would never dare to bite because that would reveal their true power. Any mongrel can look menacing, despite its size.” She went over to Robin’s cage, setting to work on the lock.

  “Well, ha! Look at this bitch with balls. I underestimated you, pretty girl,” Saoirse said.

  “Most people do,” Tasia remarked.

  Robin stepped out of her cage, wide-eyed and wary after Tasia opened it. “I think you’re very brave. And I’m grateful for what you’re doing. But... are you sure about this? What if they—”

  “‘What ifs’ have kept me back too many times for me to give them any more thought.” Tasia could see Robin had more timidity compared to the rest. She could only guess that Robin had been the latest victim, still unsure of what their captor was capable of. In her honest opinion, the other two seemed fed up with the mental mind games played on them. She went on to the other cages until all three women stood around her.

  “What’s your name?” she asked the one that had been shy to talk.

  “Akeesha.”

  “I need you to stand watch. Saoirse, back her up. Robin, come with me. I need help with Max.”

  “What do we do when they’re on their way back? I figured you noticed the cameras on the walls?” Saoirse asked.

  Tasia didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t believe that their kidnappers were deranged psychopathics. They were witches, whoever they were, which incidentally made them even more volatile. The consequences of their actions were extensive as far as she was concerned. But obsessing over them by imagining what a normal human captor would have done seemed a waste of time in her mind. “Then, we still outnumber them five to one. Trust me, there’s only one. Besides, my bet is there’s a ransom requested for each one of you.” She was lying, but she needed them to be on board. There was, however, a ransom on Sarah. Witches still needed money, and they protected their liabilities. “Keep watch. I’ll only be a minute.”