by Bonnie Dee
“I was going to lurk outside, keep an eye on the place,” Valarian continued. “But then I decided to talk to her instead. The closer I got to her apartment, the more I felt a sense of urgency. I’m telling you, Overton’s got her.”
“What do you want me to do?” Jacob asked.
“If his people have taken her, she’s probably being brought to him, maybe even to his house. Go there. Check it out and call me. I’ll continue to look for clues here.”
“Were there any signs of blood?” Jacob left unvoiced his fear that if they hadn’t taken her, they might’ve simply killed her. The gruesome image of vampires feasting on Akila tore at his heart.
“No. I told you, no struggle. Nothing but the open door,” Valarian answered impatiently. “Now book a flight to Trenton.”
“Yes, sir.” Jacob responded automatically, but then he lobbed a grenade of frustration at his master. “This is your fault. You should never have kept the truth from her and you should never have let her go.”
He hung up before Valarian could answer.
Akila floated to the surface of a deep river of restfulness. It took her a few seconds to remember why she’d been so soundly asleep and to realize she wasn’t in her own bed. Her lids fluttered open and she blinked to clear the fog from her eyes and focus on the strange room where she lay. Dread bubbled up inside her like crude oil rising from the ground. If she didn’t keep a lid on it, it would come gushing in a geyser of panic.
She wasn’t dead yet. That was one good thing. If this vampire group Valarian had told her about was holding her rather than killing her, she must have some value to them.
This was assuming she was being held by vampires and not some run-of-the-mill American psycho-kidnapper, who’d just happened to snatch her from her apartment the very same night she’d returned home from Valarian’s island. The coincidence was too much. Besides, crazy kidnapping killers usually kept a person in a gritty old warehouse or dingy basement. She was lying on a lovely antique four-poster bed in a room that looked like it had been decorated by Martha Stewart.
Akila moved her heavy, numb limbs. No rope or chains binding her wrists or ankles. Another positive sign.
She sat up in bed and waited for her head to catch up with her. The aftereffects of the sedative she’d been injected with were a floating feeling and a dry mouth. After the dizziness faded, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and rose.
The first thing she noticed was that the bedroom had no windows and three doors, one presumably leading out, which was of course locked. The next door revealed an enormous closet and the last opened into a spacious bathroom—also windowless. She didn’t want to be literally caught with her pants down by her captors, but she needed to urinate. She closed the bathroom door and noticed there was no lock.
After she’d seen to her needs and drunk deeply of the cold tap water, Akila returned to the bedroom. Like her studio apartment, it included a sitting area. But, unlike her studio, this living room was beautifully appointed with a suite of expensive furniture and a state-of-the-art entertainment center. Shelves of books lined one wall. She started to wander over to scan the titles just to distract herself from the panic she was barely keeping at bay.
Suddenly the door opened. A pair of men entered. They might have been the same ones who kidnapped her. She couldn’t tell since she’d hardly had a chance to study them before they knocked her out. They stood on either side of the door, apparently unarmed, but clearly ready to grab her if she tried to run.
Akila held steady on her trembling legs, determined not to let them know they scared the shit out of her.
Then another man entered the room, and his face she recognized from the campaign footage she’d watched earlier that day—was this the same day? How much time had passed while she’d been unconscious?
Dale Overton smiled at her as if she was a constituent he hoped to win over. He was a neat, clean-cut, square-jawed, clear-eyed man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He had an open, friendly, aw-shucks grin without a hint of guile or smarmy politician sleaze factor. He looked like a man anyone would want to vote for, the honest, hard-working, grassroots type of representative—who just happened to have a serious allergy to UV rays that made it impossible for him to go out in the daylight. Poor man.
He actually held out his hand to shake hers. “Dale Overton. Pleased to meet you at last, Miss Massri.”
She mechanically accepted his hand, although she’d rather stick hers into dead rat guts. He clasped her hand and covered it with his other one, gazing into her eyes with all the sincerity in the world shining from his. “You have no idea how long I’ve searched for you. I must thank Kaspan for bringing you to me at last. I believe I never would’ve found you on my own.”
Akila didn’t answer. For the space of a heartbeat, she believed Valarian had betrayed her, pretending to be this man’s enemy but actually driving her right to him. But then she blinked and the world went right again. Of course, Overton meant he’d sat back and waited for Valarian to locate her, then swooped in like a buzzard to carry her away.
“May I ask where I am?”
“Someplace safe. Someplace where you’ll be well looked after. Don’t worry. Your health and the health of your unborn child are of paramount importance to me.” Overton smiled even wider and reached out to rest his hand on her flat belly.
Her skin crawled beneath his touch, but she didn’t shy away. So, he knew about the prophecy. In that case, why hadn’t he killed her and stopped any threat to his master plan? Maybe there was more to the story than Valarian had told her, perhaps more than he even knew. She must get Overton to talk to her.
That turned out not to be at all tricky.
“Please, sit down.” He ushered her to the sofa and dropped into the armchair across from her. “You must have so many questions. I’ll answer the ones I can.”
“Why am I here?”
“So I can keep you safe and secure. Try not to think of yourself as a prisoner. You’re my guest.”
“Then I can leave any time?”
He dipped his chin and smiled. “Well, I wouldn’t exactly say that. But as you can see, I’m not keeping you chained in a dungeon or sucking you dry, so definitely more of a guest than a prisoner.”
He lifted his face and now his smile revealed two sharp fangs. The friendly persona had folded like origami to reveal his true, predatory face. His gaze focused on her belly and he nodded toward it. “That child you carry could be the downfall of the empire I plan to build. But such a powerful creature as this kid is supposed to be, I started thinking I could use his special qualities rather than destroy him. Turn the boy into my own son, train him to be my right hand, a general in my army.”
“Uh-huh.” Akila’s shivered as she put two and two together. “So you’ll hold me here and keep the baby after it’s born.”
“Exactly. I assume Valarian has done his part by now, although how he managed to produce viable swimmers, I’ve no idea. But he foolishly let you go. Just when I was beginning to think I’d have to storm his fortress and get you out, lo and behold, you simply went home.”
“Where you had people waiting for me. Have they been watching my place while I’ve been gone?”
Overton chuckled and leaned in to speak sotto voce, as if to keep the men by the door from overhearing, although obviously they could. “Loyal minions will do nearly anything you tell them to. Set them a task and no matter how long it takes, they’ll perform it.”
She wondered if he’d had others staking out the island and, if so, why they hadn’t nabbed her at the airport. But she didn’t ask.
“By now I’m sure Kaspan has told you something of my plans for the future.” The vampire leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed casually over the other. “For too long, our kind has skulked around in the shadows, disorganized, each intent on his own pleasures and his own kills, relegated to being a boogeyman in a human-run world. Well, we will no longer live on the fringe. It’s time the su
perior race assumed its proper place in society.”
“In charge, with humans doing your bidding.” Akila couldn’t keep a note of contempt from her voice. “Do you honestly believe such a small segment of the population can control everyone else?”
“Absolutely.” Overton beamed with the strength of his conviction. “For a time, a handful of Nazis under the guidance of one strong man upset the balance of power in the world. I’m certain hundreds of powerful vampires can shred the opposition—starting with my election into the House of Representatives. A key appointment here and there, and soon we’ll have a firm foot on Capitol Hill.”
“And then you’ll take over the world.” Giddy with nervous tension, all Akila could think of was a childhood favorite cartoon, Pinky and the Brain. The would-be Representative from New Jersey would have been laughable if he wasn’t so damn scary.
He chuckled. “I know it sounds a bit overambitious now, but in time you’ll learn I’m not a starry-eyed idealist. When humans are nothing more than rolling bloodmobiles to cater to our needs, when the sheer numbers of this overpopulated world have been pared down to a reasonable size, you’ll know I was right. The world will be a cleaner, better place to live—for some of us. But then life has always been polarized between the haves and the have-nots.”
Akila cleared her throat. She no longer felt like laughing. In fact, she very much wanted to cry and yell at him that Valarian and Jacob would be coming for her. But she doubted that was true. Neither man even knew she was missing. And if by some remote chance they did figure out she’d been kidnapped and tried to save her, she certainly didn’t want to tip off Overton by yapping about it.
“So you plan to keep me in this room until the baby is born?” Better to play along with her captor, even if she had no idea if she was pregnant or not, because if she wasn’t, she had no value to him and was completely disposable. The thought turned her blood to ice.
“At first. We’ll see how you behave. I know you’ll require fresh air and exercise. The grounds here are extensive and well guarded. You’ll also get all the prenatal care you require right here. You’ve nothing to worry about, Miss Massri. I’d hate for you to worry yourself sick. It wouldn’t be good for the baby.”
He bestowed another full-bodied smile on her then checked his watch. “I hope I’ve answered all your questions. I must be going now. I’ve many appointments to keep with the election so near.”
Overton rose and indicated the two men at the door. “There’s a closet full of clothes, a TV to keep you entertained, meals will be delivered on schedule, and if you need anything else, let Terry or Barry know.” He winked at her. “I know, they sound like a vaudeville comedy team but they’re actually very competent so don’t think you can get by them.”
Then his cheery manner vanished as he regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Just to be clear, there is no way out for you and trying to escape would only cause you great pain. I’d like to keep you pampered and content during your stay here, but if pushed, I won’t hesitate to show you the less pleasant accommodations in the basement.”
Akila nodded her understanding. Her host strode from the room, flanked by the guards.
After the door closed behind them and the lock clicked into place, she exhaled a shaky breath. If she hadn’t already been sitting, she would’ve collapsed. As it was, her bones turned to jelly and she felt she would melt into the chair, leaving behind only a stain. She’d never been so terrified in her life. She was in the hands of a madman—mad vampire—and no one knew where she was. Overton could keep her a captive for the rest of her life if he chose to, and the length of that life was also in his hands.
If he learned she wasn’t pregnant, he would kill her. And even if she produced a child, he might kill her afterward. Her options were bleak and her only hope was that somehow, miraculously, Valarian and Jacob would come for her.
Chapter Fourteen
Jacob hid in the bushes outside Dale Overton’s spacious home in the suburbs of Trenton. The wealthy, gated community offered deluxe mansions and patrolling security, which had made it extremely difficult for Jacob to infiltrate the place. He was sure the security on Overton’s house was equally impressive but somehow he had to get inside and search it. But first he must tamp down his impatience and use the electronic devices that would aid his surveillance.
Back when he and Valarian had been Nazi-hunting in Argentina after the war, none of these gadgets had been available. How much easier their work would have been with night vision, telephoto lenses, ultrasonic receivers and thermal heat detectors for keeping tabs on their quarry before they attacked. Jacob had swept through a techno-gadget store, charging everything he needed to fully stake out Overton’s home. But the pistol hidden under his jacket he’d bought from an old contact in the vampire community.
“Whatever you’re up to, it better not blow back on me,” Hector had said as he traded the Glock for cash.
Now, as the last rays of the sun disappeared and dusk deepened, Jacob scanned the exterior of the house with the thermal detector. There weren’t many bodies inside the building. He watched for a while as the figures painted in reds and yellows moved around. If Akila was a prisoner here, it was likely she’d remain contained in one room.
Unless she was already dead. Then the heat detector wouldn’t register her body at all. Jacob ignored his insidious fears, which only served to undermine his focus and make him more likely to react impulsively. Valarian had trained him well not to let his rage overcome him as they’d stalked the war criminals who’d killed his family. He must resume that cool, collected persona, forget about Akila and what she meant to him, and concentrate solely on the mission of finding and securing his target.
Jacob felt he’d done all he could from the outside of the house, and he also felt in his gut that Akila was not inside. It seemed remarkably foolish for a political candidate to keep a kidnap victim in a suburban neighborhood. But he must infiltrate the house and go room to room to check for sure. Knowing where each person was within the house would make his job easier—if he could only get in without tripping the security system.
But before he even had the opportunity to pull out his tools to disable the alarm, fate brought him an easier point of entry.
Jacob was squatting in a cluster of ornamental trees and shrubs near the rear entrance of the house. A woman opened what he assumed was the kitchen door, carrying full trash bags in each hand. Her head bobbed in time to the music on her iPod and she sang along with the song in Spanish. Taking her time, she strolled to the dumpster shielded from view of the house by a decorative grate and placed the bags inside. By the time she’d returned to the kitchen door, Jacob was inside the house.
He moved stealthily through the rooms until he found a staircase. He’d start his search at the top of the house and work methodically down to the cellar, not taking any chances on overlooking Akila if she was being held here. It was pretty easy to avoid running into any of Overton’s people—employees, bodyguards, thralls or guests, whatever those thermal images represented.
Within fifteen minutes, he’d searched the attic and two floors of the house—as well as planted a few bugs in Overton’s bedroom and what appeared to be his private office. There was nothing unusual in any of the rooms, or any hint that the resident was a vampire, other than the specially treated glass on the windows.
Jacob heard footsteps and pressed flat into the alcove of a doorway, waiting for the person to walk past. It was the maid who’d taken out the garbage. She carried her purse and reached inside it for her car keys—heading home for the night. She still sang quietly to herself and was oblivious to his presence as she passed him.
The moment she left through the kitchen door, arming the alarm system behind her, Jacob opened the door that led down to the basement. This was the one area he hadn’t been able to thermal-scan from outside the house since it was underground. He walked softly down the stairs, scanning for warm bodies and listening for signs of life. But the
cellar only contained the usual accumulation of garage sale crap. One door led to a furnace room, another to storage.
Another was locked but didn’t hold much promise, since no images showed on the scanner. Jacob used the extra strength he usually held in check to break the door handle. He opened the door to reveal a wine collection.
That completed his search of the basement. There wasn’t so much as a secret room where Overton might keep humans for a midnight snack. This house was like his beard, clean cut and human for the sake of his political career. He must indulge his vampire side somewhere else and maybe that place was where he’d hidden Akila.
If she’s still alive. Jacob couldn’t silence the persistent voice. You might never see her again. Her remains might already be disposed of. The memory of Akila’s warm skin beneath his hands, her laughing eyes and buoyant nature, haunted him as if she was already gone as he slipped out of Overton’s house and into the dark night.
This was what happened when a vampire allowed himself to care for a human. It would always end badly. Valarian had no one but himself to blame for the flustered panic he felt about Akila. He’d allowed his heart to become involved. A huge mistake, and he’d pay for it with pain and sorrow—two things he’d tried to avoid after his experience with Oxanna.
Couldn’t find her, couldn’t save her and he had no real proof she was in danger except for the strong feeling that ran through him like an electrical current making his skin prickle and his stomach sick. Worst of all, he was currently struck with a ridiculous inability to make a decision about what to do next, and hesitation or doubt had never been a part of his character.
It took Jacob to snap him out of it.
“I’ve searched the house and bugged it,” his thrall reported in by phone. “She’s not there and so far I haven’t heard anything useful. I think the best thing we can do is shadow Overton. I was able to get his itinerary for the last few weeks of the election. We’ll go wherever he goes and find out what we can. Maybe something will lead us to her.”
