Unhidden (The Gatekeeper Chronicles Book 1)
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Unhidden
The Gatekeeper Chronicles
Book One
Copyright © 2014 Dina M. Given
Cover Design by Hang Le
Editing by C&D Editing
Copyediting by Sue Soares
Formatting by JT Formatting
Published by Team D Enterprises, LLC
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
To my loving husband and two children who didn’t complain too much when I came home from my day job just to start working my night job writing this book. Juggling is tough, and I couldn’t have done without their support.
I love you guys!
An extra special thank you to my sisters, Natalie and Jennifer, at Love Between The Sheets blog who held my hand through the entire process. Their help and expertise were invaluable.
Finally, thank you to my terrific beta readers Mary Tatar, Stephanie Phillips and Rez Estevez.
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cold marble pressed against my face, numbing my cheek. My stomach roiled from the spinning of the room, threatening to release my dinner. I took a deep, ragged breath and tried to keep the dizziness under control. A voice in my head screamed at me to get up and defend myself, but my body wouldn’t obey. With a herculean effort, I pulled my legs under me in an effort to rise.
I felt the vibration in the floor before I heard the heavy thud of footsteps. The bastard was back for more. It must be my lucky day. A vice clamped around my ankles, and I slid along the smooth stone floors of the mansion. Crystal chandeliers and Renaissance paintings streaked across my vision as I was pulled through an open doorway.
I twisted and flailed, scrabbling to clutch the doorframe to stop my relentless slide into the darkened room. I tried to make it a rule to never be forced into a room when I didn’t know what lay within.
I managed a weak handhold on the doorframe, but with a sharp tug, my captor caused me to easily lose my grip. He—because only a man could own hands that large and strong—“accidentally” slammed me into a coffee table before coming to a stop without releasing me.
The concussive grenade that was triggered when I had been finishing my sweep of the last room in the mansion had left my temples throbbing, preventing me from lifting my head to get a good look at my captor. I needed to pull myself together if I was going to fight my way out of here.
Swallowing hard, I took a silent inventory of my injuries: a few bruises, no broken bones, no bleeding. Sweet. This was going to be easier than I’d thought.
Compartmentalizing the pain—a trick I had learned years ago in the Special Forces—I readied myself to twist sharply to the side in an effort to release my ankles and make a run for it. Then another set of bear paws clamped down hard around my wrists, pulling them over my head. Crap! This would make escape a bit more difficult, although not necessarily impossible. I simply had to be patient enough to wait for an opening, and patience was not one of my virtues.
“I know you are thinking about trying to escape, Miss Hayes. I would advise you against it,” said a smooth, male voice. He spoke very proper Queen’s English, as if he came from old money and would never dream of using a contraction. It made me think of those period British romance movies like Sense and Sensibility. I pictured him wearing a Victorian tailcoat and ascot, with a smarmy-looking mustache adorning his face.
I managed to lift my head a few centimeters off the hardwood floor. With my feet and the person holding them hidden in deep shadows, it was impossible to make out anything more than a crouched, hulking figure.
The English man was sitting in a cozy-looking, red leather armchair. A colorful Tiffany lamp cast a dim glow that didn’t extend very far into the room, and a thick folder sat next to it on the table.
When the Brit leaned forward, the scant light illuminating his features, I recognized him at once.
“Mr. Darko, I must say, it’s quite a surprise to see you here.” My visions of Hugh Grant disappeared, replaced by the sight of the father who had hired me to find and recover his little girl, Sarah.
Vincent Darko wasn’t wearing coat tails, but his well-tailored gray suit probably cost more than my Ducati. He wasn’t unattractive, yet I wouldn’t describe him as handsome. He was slim, almost slight, with an effeminate air about him. Maybe it was the way he crossed his legs at the knees or the way his hands hung a little limp at the wrists. Coupled with that egotistical over-confidence, he had the air of a man trying to prove he was no longer the little kid who could be bullied on the playground.
“Did you grow a set of balls and choose to find your daughter on your own?”
He chuckled deeply in response, though the amusement never reached his eyes. “I’m glad to see that, even in your current predicament, you haven’t lost your usual charm.”
“Oh, I’ve been in worse situations.” I managed a small shrug, which also served to test the grip of my captor who had my wrists. It was solid, but he clenched tighter for a moment when I moved, telling me he was somewhat relaxed and not holding me as tightly as he could have been. “So, what brings you to the Mexican jungle? Wait, let me guess. Your daughter never was kidnapped, was she?” I made a show of eyeing him up and down. “I actually have a hard time believing any woman would have sex with you, so I’m willing to bet Sarah doesn’t even exist, does she?”
“Oh, but that’s where you are wrong. Come!” he called, like he was commanding an unruly puppy.
The child who emerged from the shadows was a scrawny, bedraggled little thing. Her emaciated frame gave her the appearance of a six-year-old, not the ten-year-old that Darko had claimed her to be. Tear tracks stained her grimy cheeks, and she was hunched over, hugging herself, her matted hair falling into her face.
I ground my teeth together as I looked upon her. A fury rose up through my gut and threatened to explode, but it would have been impotent in my current situation. I choked it back down, holding it in reserve for the right time.
“I did need sufficient motivation to get you here, after all, and most humans seem to have a soft spot for these little creatures,” Darko said.
Humans? His
odd word use put a chill on my fury. What was that supposed to mean?
Not only was Darko a jackass, he may also be a little crazy. In my experience, crazy was dangerous because of its unpredictability. I needed to break the hold on my wrists and ankles, overpower the guards, grab the girl, and make my way out while avoiding pursuit and capture. That was a tall order, even for me.
I did have accomplices outside of the building; however, Darko would have known I hadn’t come alone. He knew I had assembled a small team for this mission. His men were likely scouting the surrounding jungle, looking for Jason and Daniel right now. I assumed they hadn’t been found yet; otherwise, Darko would use them as hostages against me to more easily get whatever he wanted. If Jason and Daniel hadn’t been compromised, they would come for me when our pre-arranged twenty minutes was up and I didn’t show. So, at most, I only had to stall for about another eight minutes.
I forcibly relaxed my body. I needed my captors as loose and off-guard as possible. “Besides my obviously sparkling personality, why else would you want to bring me here?”
“Possibly for nothing.” He paused, a small smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “And possibly for everything.” He reached for the folder and slowly opened it without taking his eyes from me. The cover of the folder was labeled TOP SECRET: DESERT FIRE. That didn’t ring any bells for me, and I knew about most of the top-secret military operations conducted in the last century. Darko lowered his gaze to the top sheet of paper and began reading. “Emma Hayes, female, brown hair, green eyes, five-foot-four, birth date unknown.” He paused dramatically on that last statement. “How is it that your birth date is unknown?” he asked with false curiosity.
“I know what my birth date is. But don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?”
He ignored me and continued, “You were in a car accident at the age of sixteen that killed your parents and put you in a coma for one year. Upon awakening, you exhibited severe memory loss. After rehabilitation, you went into the foster system.” He looked up at me, clucking his tongue. “That must be quite disconcerting.”
“I appreciate your heartfelt concern, but that was a long time ago, and I turned out just fine.” I tried to sound flippant, ignoring the sudden and familiar tightness in my chest.
“That remains to be seen. So, tell me, how does a young woman such as yourself join the military, get accepted into the Army Special Forces’ Delta Force unit, and then become a mercenary for hire?”
“Why don’t you free my hands and I’ll show you?”
“I am certain you are quite impressive.”
“I assure you, I am. Thanks for the trip down memory lane, but I could have told you all of that back in New York, without being restrained.”
“What I need from you isn’t in New York. As for being restrained, I doubt you would have come willingly if you knew what I had planned for you.”
“Why don’t you enlighten me?”
“Oh, but I rather like surprises.” He steepled his fingers under his chin and stared hard at me, as if trying to discover my secrets by sight alone. “You were a very difficult woman to find, Miss Hayes. Even after all this effort, I am still unconvinced you are the one we have been looking for. However, my employer is quite adamant that you are. No matter. We shall find out soon enough.” He looked past me to the goon who was holding my wrists and nodded.
It was time for me to go, or I may not get another chance. I grabbed onto my captor’s large wrists. Using him for leverage, I jerked my knees up, breaking the hold on my ankles. Before anyone could react, my legs went up and over my head, wrapping around the neck of the one holding my wrists. I squeezed my thighs, trying to pop his head like a grape.
Men usually panicked at the asphyxiation and started clawing at my legs to loosen them. This one didn’t seem affected by my squeeze play at all; however, he didn’t like me wrapped around his neck. Clamping his ham hands around my thighs, he pried them apart much more easily than should have been possible.
Placing my palms on the floor, I pulled my knees into my chest and donkey-kicked him in the gut. A deep rumble rose from the shadows, guttural and hungry. I imagined it was what a giant prehistoric bear would have sounded like.
I landed on my feet, spinning into a roundhouse kick. Making contact with my captor’s thick skull, I knocked him to the floor, silencing his growl.
I leapt away and found the wall with my back so I could scan the entire room. Darko still sat in his chair, looking very focused yet also entirely too unconcerned at the activity around him.
Oozing out of the darkness, the brute that had been holding my ankles revealed himself … and he wasn’t human.
I froze, dumbfounded by what I was looking at. The creature stood about six and a half feet tall, all sinuous muscles. He had a humanoid shape with arms, legs, torso, and head, all where they were supposed to be, though that was where the similarities ended. He was completely hairless with arms that hung to his knees, ending in large, clawed hands. His knee joints were bent the wrong way, and a long, black tongue snaked out from a lipless, gaping maw.
My addled brain screamed, Weapon. Find a fucking weapon!
Military training kicking in, I compartmentalized what I was seeing for processing at a later time, focusing only on survival. I grabbed for the radio in my vest pocket and realized it was missing. They must have taken it off me when they had dragged me into the room. My head had been so fuzzy at the time I hadn’t even noticed. Okay, so I was on my own. It certainly wasn’t the first time.
Instead of running for the door, as I was sure they expected, I leapt toward Darko and grabbed the Tiffany lamp off the table at his side. Swinging it like a bat, the cord unplugged from the wall, plunging the room into complete darkness. My senses went on high alert, straining to hear the sounds of movement coming closer. All was silent.
I held the lamp in my right hand and felt for the table with my left. I found it quickly and followed it around to the back of Darko’s chair in an effort to put a barrier between the creature and me.
I knew I was at a serious disadvantage on all fronts. This thing was clearly bigger, badder, and stronger than I was, and at the moment, I had nothing to fight it with other than an expensive, decorative lamp. I didn’t even know the layout of the room. I could easily run into unseen obstacles. I needed something to give me an advantage.
Suddenly, that bear-like growl caught my attention. Then I heard shuffling and rustling noises coming from the far corner of the room. I could only guess it was my second captor, the one I had sent sprawling with a roundhouse kick. If I had thought one monster was going to be difficult to beat, two of them were going to be virtually impossible. My only chance was to make it back into the hallway and to my gun, where it probably still lay after they had knocked it from my hands.
I could feel them circling me, readying an attack from either side. I heard the groan of floorboards getting too close.
“Are you just about ready to concede, Miss Hayes?” Darko’s smooth voice oozed out of the darkness, causing me to flinch. I was glad no one had seen that. “Or would you like to play the odds, which I can assure you are not in your favor?”
Unwilling to admit defeat, I realized I still had my night vision goggles propped on top of my head. I reached up and slowly eased them over my eyes. “Actually, Darko, I don’t like to gamble, so I think I’m going to change the game.” Even as I adjusted to the contrasting black and white images, I sensed the first creature more than saw it.
I swung the lamp at where I judged its head to be, but it lifted an arm to block the attack, and I ended up hitting its forearm instead. The glass lampshade shattered into thousands of colorful shards. Darko raised his arms over his head to try to protect himself from the raining glass, yet he remained seated in his leather chair, like a king on his throne.
Using the distraction, I leaned over the back of the chair and wrapped the electrical cord around Darko’s neck. Holding the chord and using the back of the
chair as leverage, I vaulted myself up and over, landing gracefully to face Darko.
His hands flew to his neck, trying to loosen the cord, but I leaned back, tightening the noose, not giving him a chance to get his fingers underneath it. He wheezed and gurgled, trying to suck in a breath, as I lifted him from his seat by pulling roughly on the cord. I twisted him so his back was to my front, using him as a hostage and human shield. Then I backed toward the door that led to the hallway … and to my gun.
The two creatures were following, but cautiously, staying back a few feet without making any sudden moves. Rumbling growls sounded deep in their chests.
“Hey, kid,” I called to the child who still stood hunched in on herself, trying to stay out of the way of the fighting. Her head snapped up at the sound of my voice, but I couldn’t see the expression on her face through the goggles. “Do you know how to find your way out of the building?” When she gave a small nod, I continued, “Don’t stop running until you are through the front gate. I have friends out there who will help you. Go!” At that, she darted through the door and down the hall in the direction I had come from. I knew Jason would see her in his sniper riflescope and clear a path for her through the gate if she was pursued.
“Call off your goons, Darko, or I’m going to squeeze the life out of you and enjoy doing it.” I tightened the noose, emphasizing my point.
He responded with another gurgle, so I loosened up on the cord just enough to allow him to speak. He gasped for air and hoarsely said, “You’re doing well, Miss Hayes, but you will not succeed in escaping.”
I jerked the cord tight again, continuing to back toward the dimly lit corridor. My head spun to the left and right, eyes darting around for my weapon. As my hands grew clammy at the thought of being defenseless, I finally saw it about fifty feet down the hall to my left.
That’s when someone flipped on the lights. White light burned into my retinas. A spotlight flared behind my closed lids, shards of pain driving into my eyeballs. With my hands on Darko’s leash, I was unable to remove the night vision goggles.