Drew reached for her hand. She barely felt his touch as visions of her daughter lying dead or injured rode like a specter in her mind.
Max mewed. Brie opened the door to his carrier, seeking comfort in his soft fur while she mentally urged Drew to hurry.
“Who has access to your cell phone number?” she asked.
“It’s on the answering machine in case someone really needs to reach me.”
He turned onto the narrow paved lane cutting a path through the woods. Brie glimpsed a sign reading Private Road, No Trespassing. Trees hunched over the one-lane path, whipping back and forth angrily. Scattered limbs and debris forced Drew to slow almost to a crawl. They were both surprised when the twisted trees halted to create a small clearing. A tall, wrought-iron fence suddenly rose up out of the gloom. Beyond the hulking gate Brie could just make out the shape of the tall, dark spires of an estate.
“How are we going to get inside?” she asked fretfully.
“Wait here.”
The headlights barely pierced the gloom. Not even a glimmer of light shone beyond their short range as rain continued to fall in blinding sheets. Brie would have welcomed the lightning back for a chance to see. She was cold, wet and frightened to her core, but all she could think about was getting her daughter back.
Drew shoved at the gate. The metal parted in eerie slow motion. Drew ran back to the car. “Brie, I think you should wait in the car.”
“No.”
He cupped her face. “Okay. We’ll get her back together.”
Brie put Max back in his carrier as they drove forward. Max protested plaintively, pawing at her through the bars. She stroked him absently with a finger as the house rose up out of the ground, an ugly, twisted, sprawling shape.
“Grab the flashlight from the glove compartment,” Drew said.
Brie grabbed a screwdriver as well. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but she felt better with it in her hand. Drew parked in front of the monstrosity, and together, they ran to the front door. It opened before they could knock.
A matronly woman in a long black dress held a lit taper. The tiny flame barely illuminated her stern features. “This is private property,” she announced in a heavily accented voice. “You must leave.”
“We’re here to see Dr. Manning.”
“The doctor is not here.”
“Then we’ll wait,” Drew said, brushing past her as if she weren’t trying to block his path.
“Nein! You cannot come in here. You must go away. Come back later!” The candle flickered madly. Distorted shadows jumped and danced against the stark white walls.
“We can’t do that. I’m sorry. We don’t mean to frighten you, but it is urgent we speak with Dr. Manning at once,” Drew told her kindly but firmly.
“I tell you he is not here,” she protested angrily.
“Where is his laboratory?” Drew asked.
“Go.” A long bony finger pointed toward the front door. “You must leave here at once.”
“We’ll find it ourselves,” Drew told her.
“Nein! The doctor will be upset.”
Drew’s expression turned so fierce even Brie was startled. “He’ll be more than upset if he has our daughter.”
The woman whispered something in her native tongue that could have been a prayer or a curse. Taking Brie’s hand, Drew plunged into the black maw of the hall and strode toward the back of the house as if his eyes could pierce the enveloping blackness. Brie flicked on the flashlight and pressed it into his hand.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m guessing his lab is at the rear of the house. I wish I’d paid more attention when Uncle Geoffrey described it.”
The house smelled of stale fried food. There was a dampness that probably came from the storm. Drew’s light picked up bits of stark black-and-chrome furniture in the dark openings as they passed by rooms off the hall. When they came to a place where the hallway split, the light picked up a door at one end. They headed in that direction.
Wind caught the door, ripping it from his fingers to slam it back against the house. A low, squat building was barely visible behind the house, surrounded by a substantial fence, part of which had collapsed under the weight of a massive tree limb that had toppled onto a smaller outbuilding beside it.
“Be careful. That fence is electrified,” Drew told her. “But it looks like the tree took out the generator. We just want to make sure the current is dead.”
Anticipation swelled inside her. Her daughter was here. She knew it. They ran over the muddy ground, fast turning to swampy marsh as the sodden earth struggled to absorb the continuing downpour. Drew tested the fence. Finding it dead, he led her over the broken fence and onto the grounds. A hearse sat in front of the only door she saw.
Drew detoured to the front of the vehicle and shone the flashlight on the bumper. “It’s the car that hit you,” he yelled, to be heard over the howl of the wind.
She grabbed his arm when he started toward the door. “Drew, wait! What if he’s armed?”
“Then his first shot better count,” he said savagely. “Stay behind me.”
She’d never seen Drew like this. He motioned her to one side, turned the door handle and stopped. Before she could ask what he planned to do next, Drew raised his leg and kicked the lock with savage force. Once, twice, three times. On the fourth kick, the lock yielded and the metal door flew inward.
Drew stood to one side. “Manning? It’s Andrew Pierce. I’ve come for my daughter!”
From inside came a volley of rifle shots. Drew pulled Brie down, covering her body with his own.
“Wait here!” he yelled in her ear.
“No! Drew!”
But he was already running back to the door. “Police are on their way, Manning. There’s only one way out. You’d better have a lot of rounds in there. You’re going to need them.”
Silence met his words. Then to her horror, Drew slipped inside.
Chapter Fifteen
Heedless of the mud and water dripping off her clothes and hair, Brie scrambled after Drew, pausing when she reached the black maw of the open door. Her daughter and the man she loved were inside so there wasn’t any choice. Cautiously, she inched forward.
A low, muffled moan drifted to her ears, followed by a scraping sound. Drew? Dear God, please don’t let him be hurt. She stood still a short distance inside, straining to hear over the howl of the wind. When the noise came again she started forward, trying to determine the direction of the sound.
A downburst of wind sent the door slamming into the wall. Brie jumped. Her foot kicked something that rolled across the floor. The smell of alcohol and other chemicals hung in the air. And the moan came once more. Her mind replayed every horror movie she’d ever seen. Her foot bumped against something hard and unyielding. Glass crunched beneath her shoe. The sounds came from inside the box at her feet!
A powerful beam of light suddenly swept the room from the open door at her back. Brie crouched down beside a stack of pine boxes. Coffins!
Something pushed against the lid on the one at her feet. A scream rose from her soul, but it never left her throat. The light from the door fastened on the coffin as the lid was thrust off. A woman’s scream rolled across the room on a building wave of horror as a ghostly pale face raised its head from inside that coffin.
Brie couldn’t move. The flash from a rifle muzzle and the deafening retort of the weapon came shockingly fast. She had no time to react as everything seemed to happen at once.
The scream died away as the figure in the doorway collapsed with a sickening thud. The bright beam of the flashlight rolled across the floor, tossing grotesque shadows around the strange room.
A shape lunged from between two cabinets. It slammed into the dark figure holding the rifle. And the ghostly body in front of her moaned in pain as it sat straight up in the coffin.
Brie scrambled away, hysteria bubbling in her throat. She careened into tables, cupboards and supplies, wending her way
deeper into the maze without any thought save escape.
“Mama.”
Amazingly, she heard the tiny whimper over the terrified pounding of her pulse.
“Nicole!”
Brie stopped moving. Objects crashed as the two figures fought. Manning and Drew?
“Mama?”
Nicole’s voice sounded so weak. Confusion and the starting edge of fear laced her daughter’s voice.
“Mama?”
With a resounding crash, a cabinet toppled, shattering a mix of noxious chemicals that assailed her nose.
“Mama! Mama! Mama!”
Brie ran toward her daughter’s voice. A flicker of light came from behind and to her right. Barely enough to illuminate the surgical table and the tiny figure strapped beneath the looming, deadened lights.
Horrified, she rushed forward. “Hold still, sweetheart. I’m going to get you.”
The light at her back grew brighter. She heard the crackle of a new danger. Fire!
Flames licked across the floor, eating the spilled alcohol in its path. Brie struggled with the straps pinning Nicole until she was free and in Brie’s arms.
Smoke drifted upward with alarming speed. Drew reeled back against a lab table. Leland Manning, his face a distorted mask of rage, lifted a heavy microscope and hurled it down with smashing force against Drew’s shoulder. His legs buckled. He grabbed the table for support.
“No!” Brie screamed as Manning now raised Elizabeth’s black case over his head. From out of the choking cloud of smoke, the rifle spat its deadly flame. The box fell to the concrete floor and opened. Leland Manning collapsed facedown on top.
Carey Eldrich, dressed in a stained, torn tuxedo, stood there, weaving. In his hand was the rifle. He swung it toward Brie.
“Go,” he said, weakly. “Get out!”
Drew was suddenly at her side, lifting his daughter from her arms. The flickering flames leaped with glee amid the dense shroud of smoke.
Carey led them to the door, staggering in obvious pain. He’d been the ghostly shape she’d seen rising inside the coffin. But there wasn’t time to think about that as Drew thrust their daughter back into her arms. “Take Nicole! I’ll get the housekeeper.”
Only then did Brie realize it had been the housekeeper who had stood in the lab doorway with the flashlight and screamed. Drew scooped the crumpled figure from the floor as a hungry finger of flame tongued the edge of the open coffin. Carey took her elbow, making her jump. She couldn’t tell if he was offering support or needing it himself, but together, they stumbled outside with Drew at their back, holding the limp, black-garbed figure.
“Keep going!”
They moved past the hearse. A fireball exploded at their backs. Smoke spilled from the open door of the laboratory. The rasp of flames could be heard over the wind. Carey abruptly dropped to the ground. Nicole clung to Brie’s neck, looking more asleep than awake.
Holding her daughter, Brie crouched beside Carey. Drew lowered the housekeeper to a patch of grass and joined her.
“Drew! Carey’s hurt!”
“Can you make it to the car carrying Nicole?”
“I’ll make it,” she said grimly.
Pressing Nicole’s face into her shoulder, she started for the downed tree and the gap in the fence where they’d originally gained entrance.
Like evil springing from the fires of hell, a flaming figure erupted from inside the burning laboratory. Leland Manning ran straight at her, his face contorted in demonic rage.
Brie set Nicole down. She stepped in front of her and drew the screwdriver. Gripping it tightly, she stood her ground.
Cold, soulless eyes bore into her. Drew yelled, but Manning was almost on her. She braced herself, ready to thrust with the screwdriver.
A shot rang out.
Manning folded to the water-soaked ground at her feet, his clothing still burning. Brie spun, pulling Nicole against her chest to keep her daughter from seeing the grisly sight.
Drew lowered the rifle. Behind him, a dark figure pushed open the gate and sprinted across the compound. David Bryson stopped a few feet away. “I can help.”
“Can you?” Drew asked coldly.
“Police and ambulance are on the way.”
“How did you get through?” Brie asked nervously, moving to Drew’s side. Drew slid an arm around her without taking his gaze from David Bryson. Most of David’s face lay in shadow, but what Brie could see held no expression at all.
“The emergency line is back in service,” he stated calmly. “Is Nicole all right?”
“I—I think so. He had her strapped to an operating table!” The remembered horror choked her.
“Let’s get them out of here,” David said to Drew.
Something inside the lab exploded forcefully. Brie felt the shock wave against her back.
David bent over the old woman.
“I’ve got Nicole. Get Carey,” Brie urged Drew. He released her and squatted beside his friend.
“Come on, buddy, let’s go.”
Carey struggled feebly to stand. His features were drawn and pale as death.
“You…always were…a better…shot,” she heard Carey whisper.
“I didn’t fire the rifle,” Drew responded grimly.
Their gazes went to David. His dark black jeans were tightly molded to his skin, the dark black jacket, wetly plastered against his chest. If he was armed, the weapon was well concealed.
In the confusion after the police arrived, Drew stayed behind to answer questions while Nicole and Brie were sent off in the second ambulance. Her daughter’s lethargy was terrifying. Brie waited anxiously for the lab results after the doctor announced Nicole had been drugged.
When the curtain parted, she looked up, expecting Drew, but David Bryson appeared like a dark warrior. He gazed from her to her daughter, his dark eyes asking the question.
“She was drugged,” Brie told him. “The doctor doesn’t think it did any harm, but they’re checking to see what he gave her.” She’d thought she had no tears left, but one slid down her cheek all the same. “It’s all my fault. I actually sought him out. I wanted Manning to help my mother. And all he wanted was Nicole for some horrible experiment.”
David nodded. “Other geneticists are working with so-called ‘suicide genes’ to kill cancer. The therapy is viable, but Manning had a second agenda. Your daughter will be all right. I’ll be in touch.”
“Wait.” But David slipped away.
When the curtains parted this time it was Drew. He sat on the edge of the bed beside her and stroked his daughter’s cheek so tenderly it brought fresh tears to her eyes.
“The doctor got the lab report back. The drug is a common anesthetic. She’s reacting exactly as she should. And odds are, she won’t remember a thing. What do you say we take her home?”
He wiped her tears with the same tenderness he used on his daughter. A tiny mew came from inside the jacket he was wearing. Little Imp suddenly sprang free, jumping to the bed in a frantic effort to reach Nicole. The kitten’s tiny pink tongue swiped her daughter’s chin, sniffed closely, then settled itself against her sleeping daughter’s chest.
“You can’t bring a kitten into a hospital,” Brie admonished, half laughing as she wiped at her tears.
“I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“Where did you find her?”
“In the car inside the carrier with Max.”
“That’s impossible!”
Drew’s face hardened. “I know.”
David. She didn’t know how she knew, she just did. He’d found the kitten. He’d made the call. He’d summoned help.
Or had he?
The wind didn’t seem quite so fierce on the way home, but many of the roads were flooding. The cottage was dark, but it looked so normal. So safe. Drew went in first, finding the storm lanterns they kept for emergencies. Brie’s eyes were gritty from too many tears, but she insisted on putting Nicole to bed herself.
Drew stroked his daug
hter’s hand and kissed her cheek lovingly. For a moment, Brie thought her tears would start once more. But they didn’t and Drew left the room. Brie put her to bed with Little Imp and Max looking on. Imp immediately jumped up to curl on the pillow beside Nicole. Brie kissed her daughter’s forehead before going in search of Drew.
He stood at the window gazing broodingly out at the night. Like Brie, he was still wearing the wet clothing he’d had on all evening.
“You should change,” she said softly.
He turned. “So should you.”
She let that slide. “Why did Manning want Nicole?”
“No doubt he wanted her blood,” Drew said bitterly, “just like he told you.”
“That doesn’t make sense. He didn’t have to kidnap her and strap her to an operating table.”
She realized Drew’s anger at what had been done to their daughter matched her own.
“You know his pet theory about witches and special powers?” Drew began to pace before the gas fireplace. “According to my mother, our family is also descended from one of the most powerful witches who ever lived in Moriah’s Landing.”
Brie stared at him in shock.
Drew stopped, shrugged. “I just got off the cell phone with her. Manning must have thought he’d found the perfect subject for his crackpot theory.”
“Nicole’s just a little girl!”
“Carey told Cullen Ryan that Manning had been injecting him with something since he was kidnapped. He was using Carey to test out his theory. Manning claimed it was only justice since it was Carey’s fault he’d had to kill his wife—”
“Leland Manning killed Ursula? But I thought she was kidnapped!”
“Cullen never was too happy with that story.”
“But the money—”
“We think he withdrew it to pay for the bodies he was having shipped into the country illegally.”
“What bodies?”
“This all ties in with the investigation Jonah Reis was doing for the FBI. Jonah knew someone in the secret society was smuggling something into the country from overseas. When he and Kat were investigating, they discovered coffins filled with bodies. Jonah and Cullen deduced Manning was smuggling the bodies to use in his research.”
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