The ambient light brightened suddenly, and Cyn froze. They were pulling into some sort of a truck stop or gas station. She could hear voices nearby and the steady hum of diesel engines left idling while their drivers took care of whatever business brought them here. The Land Rover's front door snicked open and the interior lights flashed on briefly, before she heard a muttered curse and the lights went off. The car door slammed.
Silence, and then the clunk of a nozzle being inserted into the fuel tank right behind Cyn, where she lay against the side wall of the cargo compartment. She smelled the fumes and heard the gurgle of the gasoline as Jabril's PI filled the tank. It went on for long enough that she knew the tank had been almost empty. She'd topped off on the way to Luci's, but the V8 engine was hell on gas, so they'd traveled less than two hundred miles since the abduction. Unless this wasn't their first stop for fuel. Liz might know about that, but she was as mute as Cyn for the moment.
The gas cap ratcheted closed and then more silence until the car shifted with the weight of someone climbing back into the driver's seat. Cyn started making noise, kicking the side of the compartment, shouting wordlessly beneath the tape.
"Shut up back there or I'll give you another jolt,” a man's voice growled.
Cyn responded by making more noise than ever, knowing he could not only hear her, but that it irritated him—hopefully enough to do something about it.
The engine started and the truck began to move. Cyn's heart sank and she thought she'd failed, but she didn't give up, screaming even louder, pounding her bound feet against the door and sides of the SUV. Liz joined in, either because she figured Cyn had a plan or just because she was scared and pissed off. Cyn cheered her silently, the more noise the better.
"Goddammit!” the driver swore. The truck swerved, traveled a short distance and came to a halt with the engine running. It was darker here, and Cyn knew their captor had pulled away from whatever public area they'd been in before. The back hatch opened suddenly and the PI's flushed and angry face appeared. Cyn's gaze went immediately to the Taser in his right hand.
"You shut the fuck up, bitch,” he said to Cyn, clearly seeing her as the instigator. “I only need you alive, not functioning, you got it? I'll give you a jolt that'll make a drooling idiot look like Einstein compared to you."
Cyn stared at him, but continued making noises, pleading now. The PI frowned, then turned to Liz and ripped the tape off her face. “What's the problem, missy?” he asked nastily.
Liz screamed as he tore skin along with the tape, and it took her several minutes as she struggled to control her crying enough to talk.
"Fuck this,” the PI snarled and moved to close the hatch, but Liz rose up slightly and cried out, forestalling him.
"Please,” she sobbed. “Please, sir. We have to—” She blushed furiously, swallowed hard and whispered. “We have to pee."
Good girl, Cyn thought. This was the Liz who had engineered her own escape from Texas.
"Shit. Fucking women got bladders like peas. Dammit. I should let you piss yourselves, but then I'd have to smell it all the way to New Mexico."
New Mexico. Cyn thought furiously. He was taking them to New Mexico which meant Jabril's territory. How much farther?
"All right. All right,” he muttered to himself and glared at the two women. “I'm gonna’ pull over to the head. You can go one at a time. And no funny business or the other one pays, you got it? The hands stay tied, so you better hope—"
"Please,” Liz whined. “I won't be able to get my pants down.” Her eyes widened and she stared at him in horror. “Oh God,” she whispered and began to sob even harder.
"Fuck that, what do you think I am? Some kind of pervert? Look, shut the fuck up, the hands stay tied, but I'll switch ‘em to the front and you count yourself lucky I can't stand the smell of piss. You too, tough girl,” he sneered at Cyn. “You better think of little sweetie here before you try anything."
Cyn nodded.
He drove the truck another short distance, parked and came around to open the hatch again. He freed Liz first, cutting the tape from her hands while her feet were still bound, making no effort to be gentle as he rolled her over and quickly rebound her hands in front. Then he slit the tape on her feet with the same knife and yanked her from the back of the truck. “Go on. You got five minutes."
"Five minutes, but I don't—"
"Five minutes, missy. Take it or leave it."
Liz took it. The hatch came down and Cyn remained still, listening to the PI's gritty footsteps outside. He paused and the truck rocked slightly under his weight as he leaned against the side near the front. Cyn raised her head cautiously and took a quick look around. They were pulled up in front of a cinder block restroom, the kind one saw at public beaches and along highways all through the American west. In the near distance, she could still see the lights of the truck stop, could hear the whoosh of air brakes and the calls of the drivers—tantalizing close, but too far away to do her any good.
She ducked back down below the windows and tried to come up with a plan. With her hands taped in front, she'd have a lot more options, but she didn't want to take the chance he'd either hurt Liz or, for that matter, kill Cyn and leave her by the side of the road. Liz had to be Jabril's first priority, but he'd want Cyn for payback, not only against her but against Raphael. She shivered at the thought of what the Texas vampire lord would do if he ever got his hands on her. Mirabelle had been quite eloquent in her descriptions of Jabril's abuse of his blood slaves.
Thinking of Mirabelle made her realize someone should have missed them by now. Luci would have called when they didn't come back for the birthday party. Would Raphael think she'd run away from him again? No. Even if he thought she'd run, it made no sense to take Liz with her. He'd know something was wrong and he'd know Jabril was involved. But would he find her in time? It had been hours since they'd been taken, hours filled with daylight and sunshine which gave their captor a considerable head start.
The hatch opened without warning to reveal Liz, tape once again silencing her mouth, binding her hands in front.
"Okay, bitch, your turn,” the PI growled. He grabbed Cyn by the hair and yanked her out of the truck, letting her fall. She cracked her elbow hard on the asphalt and let him hear her cry of pain. The more scared and helpless he thought her, the better. He crouched next to her, one knee crushing her hip, holding her in place while he freed her hands from behind then roughly turned and bound them in front. Standing, he bent to cut the tape around her ankles and yanked her to her feet.
Cyn stumbled on legs gone numb and weak from the combination of the Taser shock and hours of immobility, but she was careful to keep her eyes downcast so he wouldn't see her rage.
"Go,” he said, shoving her. “And don't forget I've got your little friend here."
Cyn started walking, slowly at first. She heard a ripping noise behind her, and turned to see the PI binding Liz's ankles again. Her mind racing, she headed for the public restroom hoping against hope there would be something inside she could use as a weapon.
The entrance was a dark, doorless hole, lit only by a single yellow bulb behind a cracked plastic cover. She tripped on the uneven walkway and stumbled heavily, falling into the entrance's block wall. She leaned there a moment, letting her captor see her weakness, using the time to think. When she thought she'd delayed as long as she could get away with, she straightened and went inside.
It was dark enough in the restroom that she'd have used a flashlight under normal conditions. Fortunately, she actually didn't need to use the facilities. Regardless of what any asshole PI thought, in her experience, women could hold it a lot better than men. They had more practice waiting in long lines.
She used her time to search the musty restroom, squinting into the dark, trying to find something to use as a weapon, or just a sharp edge. That's all she needed. Something to cut the tape. Windle had stripped off her shoulder rig, but she kept plenty of weapons in the truck, and she was a
ssuming Mr. Super PI either hadn't had the time or hadn't thought to check for them, since the side compartment cover had been intact. If she was right, it was an oversight she intended to use against him. And if she was wrong? Well, she'd better be right.
Big words, Cyn. How you gonna do that? Think, think, think. She sank to the dank floor, her muscles still weak and twitching from her ordeal.
"Let's go, bitch!” her abductor yelled from outside, clearly not caring if anyone overheard.
Cyn rubbed her eyes wearily and twisted her feet beneath her to get up. Her boot heel caught on the hem of her jeans and she tugged it impatiently, swearing when the edge of the decorative metal heel caught on the denim. She froze, staring at her favorite boots, at their elaborate metal embellishments on heel and toe. One of which, she saw now, was loose enough to have ripped out a fair width of hem. It could work, but she'd need a lot of time ... and her hands would have to remain taped in front of her.
Cyn shuffled back outside, doing her best to appear exhausted and beaten. She let herself fall twice on the way back to the Land Rover, lying on the ground the second time until the burly PI came over and dragged her to her feet. Even then, she let herself hang loose in his hands, making him all but carry her to the big SUV.
"Not so tough, after all, are you, bitch?” he gloated. When they reached the truck, he lifted her roughly and threw her into the back. She whimpered helplessly and began to cry, letting her shoulders shake visibly with sobs of despair as he bound her feet once again.
"Useless,” the PI muttered in disgust. He slammed the hatch closed and was soon back in the driver's seat, accelerating out of the parking lot, tires spinning on the grimy asphalt.
Back in the cargo compartment, Cyn's sobs quieted and she smiled. “Got you, you bastard,” she whispered fiercely.
Chapter Fifty-one
Raphael stared out the jet's window as the sleek Gulfstream dropped out of the night sky over Tucson. He was seething inside, wanting nothing more than an enemy at hand, someone's blood to quench his fury. He thought about Jabril Karim, about how carefully the Southern vampire lord manipulated the local politicians, plying them with money and gifts and playing the good citizen to the world. And all the while his private domain was like a scene out of some archaic play.
Jabril could easily have made for himself the money he sought to steal from Mirabelle and her sister. His family was well connected in his home country even now, with contacts and opportunities for investments enough to make him a wealthy man. But instead, he chose to play the idle prince, stealing what he wanted, letting his minions pay the price for his excesses.
Duncan's voice murmured behind him. His lieutenant had been on the phone almost constantly, staying in touch with their security people back in Malibu. They were still tracking Cyn's SUV, watching as it drove steadily toward Jabril's territory. Jabril had probably thought himself clever getting a human to kidnap the two women in daylight. It gave the abductor several hours lead while the vampires slept, and Jabril no doubt assumed Raphael would have no way of tracing their whereabouts, in any case.
Ironically, had the other vampire lord taken only Elizabeth, it might have worked. Raphael would have had no way to follow Jabril's human agent and even less motivation to attempt a rescue. But Jabril had taken Cyn. And Cyn belonged to Raphael. It was going to be the purest pleasure to educate Jabril in the wonders of modern technology.
Duncan leaned forward. “They continue on Interstate 10, my lord, but our people tell me the vehicle will enter a zone of questionable reception before too long."
"What does that mean, Duncan?"
"Our tracking program relies on the wireless network for communication, like a cell phone. The satellite will continue to trace the vehicle, but it will have no way to update our system, to inform us of the current location, until it regains wireless coverage. It should be only a short time, and in any event, I believe the destination is clear. He is following a direct line into New Mexico, aiming for Jabril's territory."
"That will not save him,” Raphael growled. Jabril clearly assumed Raphael would be reluctant to pursue him across the territorial bounds, which would involve the Vampire Council in the dispute. Jabril was a fool.
The private jet taxied to a halt and Raphael waited impatiently as one of his people opened the hatch. He would have exited the plane immediately, but Juro rose ahead of him and descended the short stairway alone while his brother effectively blocked the exit. Raphael scowled and was about to remove this obstacle to his departure when the bodyguard abruptly vacated the hatch, taking the stairs to the ground in a single leap.
There were three huge SUVs idling on the runway, their black finish and darkly tinted windows glinting in the plane's running lights. Six vampires from his Phoenix nest were waiting for him when he stepped onto the tarmac, including a driver who remained in each vehicle. A female vampire stepped forward, going to one knee.
"Master."
"Up, Winona,” he said to the nest's leader. “We've no time for this. Duncan has briefed you?"
Winona rose gracefully, spinning to stride side by side with Raphael toward the waiting vehicles. “He has, my lord, and we've maintained direct contact with your security base as well. I know the area where the vehicle is headed. There is perhaps a fifty mile blind spot in the wireless coverage, no more, but it skims the state border."
"I understand. Get me close enough and it will not matter.” Raphael was already feeling the faint hum in his blood that said Cyn was near. The closer he got the stronger it would be.
"As you say, my lord.” Winona signaled her waiting people and everyone piled into the vehicles. Juro edged Raphael toward the second of the three SUVs, then shoved his bulk into the front seat while Duncan maneuvered into the third row, leaving the middle seat to Raphael and Winona.
In moments, they were speeding out of the airport, the rotating lights on the truck roofs marking them as official vehicles and easing their way through the late night traffic. It was all quite legitimate; Jabril wasn't the only vampire who maintained cordial relations with the local authorities. But eventually, the running lights were no longer necessary as they left the city far behind and headed into the impenetrable blackness of the Arizona desert.
Chapter Fifty-two
Elizabeth had long since passed out from exhaustion, but Cyn continued to work doggedly on the tape binding her wrists together. Her arms were aching, her fingers numb and her wrists bleeding from numerous missed cuts as she struggled to slice through the tape using only the jagged edge of her boot heel. Even with her hands in front of her, it was difficult. The cargo compartment was crowded with both of them lying bound, and she had to be careful not to draw her captor's attention with too much movement. She paused to rest her trembling arm muscles and laid her head back on the carpet, wanting nothing more than to close her eyes and sleep, if only for a short time.
She jolted awake as a cell phone rang nearby. Her first thought was that it was her own phone, and she wondered where it was. Surely Luci or Raphael would have tried calling when they couldn't find her. The phone trilled again, but it wasn't hers. Jabril's PI swore, and then answered with a gruff, “Hello.” Cyn strained to listen to the one-sided conversation.
"Yes, sir. I have them both.
"I'm not happy about this. That big bastard's gotta be coming after me. The sun went down hours ago. Yeah? Well, you try loading two unconscious women onto an airplane without anyone asking questions. Besides, I figure taking the bitch's car bought me a few hours.
"No one's following that I can tell, not that I'd know if—Yes sir, still on the interstate, maybe sixty miles from the New Mexico border. Yes, sir, whatever you want. The sooner I turn these two over to you, the happier I'll be."
Cyn could hear faint beeping noises as he entered something on her in-dash navigation system. “I've got it. Are you sure—Yes, sir. As you say, it's your money. I'll be there in less—Fucking cell phone.” Cyn heard a thud as something hit the car se
at, then, “Asshole vampire. If he was gonna meet me, why'd I have to drive way the hell out here in the first place?"
All thoughts of resting fled as Cyn realized her time had run out. She scrunched over as far as she could and started rubbing her bound hands against the tiny metal plate, bloodied fingers and wrists forgotten. She had less than sixty miles to get herself free or she'd be worrying about a lot more than a few shallow cuts.
Chapter Fifty-three
In the dim interior of the limo, Jabril gave Asim a questioning look.
"Windle will reach the border shortly before us, less than an hour now.” Asim shifted nervously. “My lord, I am uncomfortable with the idea of crossing the border. It is unnecessary and provocative. You could let your guards go to the meeting instead and bring the captives to you here in your own territory.” He gestured at the empty desert all around them.
"Who is it you fear, Asim? The human?” Jabril scoffed. “You are an old woman sometimes. Perhaps I should have brought Calixto instead of you, after all. He, at least, would not be fretting over unseen dangers. No, Asim. Soon, Raphael will be humiliated and Elizabeth will be mine. Permit me to enjoy the moment."
Having little choice in the matter, Asim acquiesced with a sharp nod. “Your will, my lord."
"Yes, Asim. Always."
Chapter Fifty-four
The Land Rover had pulled off the highway some time ago, leaving the road behind and bumping across the hard desert. Their movement finally stopped, and Cyn heard the PI muttering as he climbed from the driver's seat. She dared a quick peek out the window. They were parked in the middle of nowhere, the lights of a small town in the far distance. Her truck's halogen headlights illuminated a cool rectangle of light close to the ground, making it harder to see anything beyond their glow. The white-haired PI was standing by the side of the truck, rubbing his back. Apparently the long drive had taken a toll on him physically.
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