Midnight Savior: The Watchers, Book 4

by D McEntire

  Suddenly, she stirred, then her eyes opened, followed by a scream. Water splashed in every direction as she flailed about, trying to get purchase in the slippery tub and protect herself from whatever she thought was going to happen.

  She probably thinks you’re going to drown her.

  Kern bent quickly and grasped under her arms, trying to steady her as she coughed and sputtered, and blinked through the soapy water that had splashed onto her face and into her eyes. He released her and grabbed a towel to dab at her face.

  “Wha—what do you want?”

  A good question. One he didn’t know how to answer. Why had he come in here? His body knew the reasons, but what could he say?

  “To check on you.”

  When she took the towel and tried covering herself, he couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. It earned him a narrow-eyed scowl. She brushed wet hair out of her face, then winced when her fingers snagged on a clump of tangled strands.

  “You have blood in your hair.”

  Kern felt like smacking himself as soon as the words left his mouth. The blood was there because he had bitten her. Before she could respond, he sank to his knees beside the tub, picked up a shampoo bottle and squirted a hefty dollop into his palm.

  “Sit up, and lean your head back.”

  After a long stare, she slowly did as he asked.

  Marie’s heart was pounding. She had managed to stop crying and had gotten herself together before the man’s sudden presence had startled her. Her first thought was he was going to drown her. She had actually seen her life pass before her eyes.

  Now, he was washing her hair. Was he trying to drive her insane? Her thoughts quickly went in another direction. No, he was the insane one, she told herself.

  Scenes from Misery played through her head where the woman had been sweet as pie to her captive one moment, then broke her captive’s ankles the next instant. Was that what he was doing to her? Alternating from being considerate to ripping into her neck?

  She tried to remain as still as possible, keeping her senses tuned to every movement he made, waiting for the sudden ambush—but it never came.

  His fingers, stroking her scalp and sifting through the strands of her hair, were gentle, soothing. She caught herself almost nodding off several times, then berated herself for letting her guard down.

  He stood and left the room, making her heart rate speed up again wondering what he intended. When he returned with a cup, she was relieved, but didn’t allow herself to relax fully. Even when he began to pour water over her head, rinsing the soap from her hair.

  When he finished, he set the cup on the edge of the tub and didn’t move, neither did she. She kept her eyes forward, not daring to look at him. She found herself not wanting to know what was going on in his head, because if it involved attacking her sexually, she knew she didn’t stand a chance.

  Several moments of quickened heartbeats and strained breathing passed before he stood and headed for the door.

  “Get dressed. I have soup,” he barked with a glance over his shoulder as he left the bathroom.

  The door remained open. He hadn’t closed it when he left. She stared at the empty doorway wondering how she was going to get through this.

  Several moments passed. Marie didn’t move from the tub. She was too deep in thought. At the forefront was what had just happened. He hadn’t hurt her. Actually, he had been extremely gentle. The fact he had the ability in him at all surprised her.

  Marie’s mind replayed all she had seen in her dreams. The man had been through events so horrific she wondered how he had survived. Marie couldn’t find it in herself to hate him. None of what he had endured was his fault. He was a victim of something cruel…something evil.

  Chapter Twelve

  Marie sat on the floor with her back braced against the wall and her knees up to her chest. She had returned to the room as the man had ordered. It should not have surprised her he had immediately replaced the manacle on her ankle.

  She was tired and sore, and wanted this nightmare over. The door opened, and the man stepped inside carrying a bowl in his hands.

  “I have some soup. You need to let it cool first. I’m not very good with microwaves. I overheated it. Twice.”

  He stooped and placed the bowl beside her. She stared at the tops of her knees. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him leave the room, then return again with a chair, which he placed inside the doorway.

  “Ok. I want answers. Who are you, and who do you work for?” His voice was even, but cold.

  Marie raised her head, then swallowed with a wince before speaking. Her voice was barely a whisper, but she answered.

  “My name is Marie DeVeux. I’m from Athens, Georgia, and I work for no one. I don’t even have a job. I…”

  “Not good enough.”

  Marie glared at him. He hadn’t given her the chance to finish.

  “When is the doctor returning?”

  She frowned. Doctor? Who was he talking about? The man in the video.

  “I don’t know.”

  He growled and stood, bumping the chair and causing it to slide several inches across the floor.

  Marie shook her head. He didn’t believe her, and she had the feeling no matter what she said it was of no use. The realization made her heart ache.

  “I don’t know what else to tell you. I don’t know what this place is or who you are. I know this sounds crazy, but I dreamed of you. My grandmother told me I had to find you. She even showed me a picture of this building. I followed her directions and finally found you, but you attacked me.” Marie absently brought her hand to her sore throat.

  The man stared, but she could not read the expression on his face. After several moments, he began his questions again in the same, harsh tone.

  “How did your grandmother know where to find me?”

  Marie fidgeted. How was she going to explain? She had no idea how her grandmother had known. All she could do was shrug at his question.

  “Who is your grandmother? Does she work for the doctor? Is she associated with this place in some way?” His eyes were narrowed and anger burned in their depths.

  “No. She has no part in this.”

  “And how do you know?”

  Aggravation started to take hold of her. “Because she’s dead. She died when I was a baby.”

  The man let out a snort and shook his head. “So, you want me to believe you came all the way from Georgia because your dead grandmother told you to find me, and she happened to have led you here? Right to me?”

  “Look. I can’t explain this any better than to tell you what happened. She told me to head north, so I did. Earlier today a woman gave me a ride to Louisville since it was where she was going, and dropped me off at a clinic not far from here. When the clinic closed, I had to leave. It was cold and snowing. This place was sitting off the road, and I needed somewhere to crash.” Marie shrugged a shoulder again and continued with her explanation, knowing she was wasting her breath.

  “When I got closer, I realized this was the building in my dreams. I came inside and searched for you.” Marie had blurted out the entire story in one breath, pushing aside the burn in her throat. She was growing increasingly tired and aggravated with his questions.

  “Wow. Now that’s a story. You may try selling it to the makers of X-files or something.”

  His tone had turned from anger to mocking.

  Marie sighed. “Look. I really don’t know what is going on here except what they have been doing to you.”

  Eyes blazing, he quickly took a step forward. “How do you know what has been done to me if you don’t work here or had anything to do with it?”

  Marie closed her eyes for a moment, telling herself there was no getting through to this man.

  “There is a DVD in the lab.”

  The man shook his head. Marie could see he was not giving up.

  “I’ll ask you again. When is the doctor expected?”

  “I
have no idea what or who you are talking about,” Marie said through gritted teeth, once again biting back the pain in her throat. He was getting closer. She knew there would be no way to even attempt to defend herself while sitting on the floor.

  In one step he was towering in front of her. Marie stood abruptly to face him.

  “You’re going to stop lying and tell me what I want to know, or I’m going to stop being so pleasant.”

  The statement almost sent her over the edge. Marie pointed to her bruised and sore throat. “Is this what you mean by being pleasant?”

  “You deserved it for leaving me here for weeks to starve. You didn’t even have the decency to leave water. I’m sure you were all hoping I’d starve to death, but I didn’t give you the satisfaction.”

  Marie had reached the end of her reserve. Nothing she said was going to change his mind. She had undergone days of endless walking and bearing the elements to get to him. Not only did he not believe her, he had already judged her guilty of what was done to him. He was hell-bent on believing her to be a part of whatever was going on and refusing to consider the possibility she was telling the truth.

  She snatched up the bowl of hot soup and threw at him. The liquid splashed on his face, and the bowl hit him in the chest. “Dammit. Why do you have to be so hardheaded? I told you I had nothing to do with this,” she yelled as the bowl left her fingers.

  Kern didn’t move as hot liquid slid down his face, though he did clench his fists tightly at his sides. He watched her eyes go wide in fear as she took several steps away from him until her back hit the wall.

  Hanging on to his anger, he stalked out of the room and headed for the bathroom to clean the soup from his face and shirt.

  The shirt was sticky as he pulled it over his head and rinsed it in the sink, then hung it over the shower rod to dry.

  Rage burned in his stomach. He glanced at the tub as the remaining soap suds slowly disappeared with popping bubbles, then took a deep breath and remembered what he had done moments earlier. With each stroke of her hair, Kern had told himself he was only trying to earn her trust, softening her up so she would answer his questions.

  Kern also willed himself to believe it had been the reason for preparing the soup. As she ate he would ask questions, hoping the civil approach would get the woman to speak the truth. If not, he would have to resort to fear and violence, and a part of him did not even want to think about resorting to inflicting bodily harm on the female. Being much stronger than her, he feared he would inadvertently cause serious harm.

  Unfortunately, the plan of using the civil approach had fallen apart with every answer she’d given him. He had gotten nothing out of her but lies.

  Remembering the bowl, Kern left the bathroom to return to the little room. With every step his mind urged him to wait to retrieve it after he tempered his anger, because seeing her would most likely ramp it up again.

  The room was empty.

  Kern narrowed his eyes. He knew she couldn’t go far, unless she knew how to get the door open. He stepped into the room, wondering how she had gotten loose from the manacle he’d placed on her ankle.

  The metal clinked when he picked it up and turned it in his hands. Keen eyesight spotted fibers from her sock and blood—her blood.

  Slipping from his fingers, the metal clanged when it landed on the concrete floor. Kern straightened and stepped out of the room, stood in the hall and closed his eyes.

  Kern concentrated, listening past the sound of his own heartbeat to find hers. It took only moments to pick up the beats—fast and hard. She was afraid, in panic mode and close.

  Kern returned to where he had discovered the cots. His gaze roamed the room, then settled on a tall, metal cabinet in the corner. As he approached, the thumping of her heart grew louder in his ears.

  Grasping both handles, Kern yanked hard, flinging the doors open and almost toppling the cabinet over.

  A scream echoed in the small confines. The woman was folded like a pretzel, trying to hide on the bottom shelf.

  Kern was still in growl mode. He grabbed her by the shirt and dragged her out of the cabinet, ignoring her squirming, yelling and flinging arms. But, when her teeth clamped down on his arm holding her shirt and drawing blood, his warrior instincts kicked into high gear, and he swung.

  The back of Kern’s hand made contact with the side of the woman’s face, breaking her hold on his flesh and lifting her feet off the ground. Her body struck the wall. In the next moment she slumped, then lay in a heap on the floor.

  Kern stood transfixed, unable to believe what he had done. His heart raced, and his body shook from the adrenaline rush. Jerking himself out of his shock, he went to her, checking her jaw and neck for injury as well as her head and back which had hit the wall hard.

  Gently, he laid her on the floor, then let out a roar, sending his fist into the wall. The impact left a large hole, evidence of his returning strength.

  When his breathing calmed, Kern carried one of the cots to the small room, then retrieved a blanket and pillow. His actions had put a large knot in the pit of his stomach, and he felt ill.

  “I’m losing it,” he muttered angrily. “Striking a female. What the hell is wrong with me?”

  You are insane.

  Kern didn’t want to listen to his inner voice. He returned to the woman and lifted her from the floor. It was then he noticed stains of blood on her sock. She had worked her ankle through the manacle, cutting her skin during her struggle to escape.

  Cradling her to his chest, Kern carried her to the cot and placed her on the soft fabric, resting her head on the pillow, then covered her with a blanket.

  The beginning of a nasty black and blue bruise was spreading across her cheek. Blood oozed and slowly made a line from her bottom lip. Kern could not stop himself from placing a gentle kiss on the spot where he had struck her, then moved to her split lip.

  The taste of her blood again sent shockwaves soaring through his body, electrifying him like nothing he had ever experienced. He couldn’t understand why she made him feel this way, and knew it would be a mistake to put any more thought into it. He was a vampire, and she was part of some vampire torture and killing operation.

  Moving aside the blanket, he lifted her foot and slowly removed the stained sock. The fabric stuck to flesh where blood had begun to dry. Blood continued to well from deeper cuts and scrapes. The sight squeezed his chest, making him dizzy. Seeing her battered and bruised, all by his hands and actions, made him feel like a beast.

  You are a beast, thanks to the doctor and this woman.

  Kern growled low in his throat. He needed to keep some distance between himself and the female. Forcing himself not to taste her again, Kern released her foot and left the room in search of a first-aid kit. Each time her blood had touched his tongue, he had found himself becoming more and more confused. He could not afford to lose focus on his mission—gather information about the doctor, the man’s plans for vampires and his scheduled return.

  The kitchen seemed the obvious place for a first-aid kit since the bathroom only had a pedestal sink and a tub. Searching through cabinets and giving the entire room a once-over, Kern noticed a backpack on the floor by the kitchen table which he hadn’t noticed earlier. Curious, he picked it up and untied the sleeping bag from the top, then unzipped the bag. Inside was a pair of blue jeans, two shirts, two pairs of panties and bras, a hairbrush, deodorant and first aid supplies.

  After removing the clothes, Kern rooted through the odds and ends in the bottom, but found nothing of significance.

  Unzipping a pocket, Kern found papers. He read over a release form and other papers for Marie DeVeux from St. Francis Behavioral Health Hospital in Athens, Georgia. The name and location did match the story of who the woman said she was, and where she was from. The papers, backpack, sleeping bag…her story might be true. But dreaming of him?

  Why not? You’ve dreamt of her, or someone like her, whispered what was left of his rational side.


  More lies, retorted the side of him that was pushing for revenge.

  Kern ran a hand over his jaw. This was killing him. Trying to work out in his mind who was guilty and who could be innocent was eating him alive. With each passing day in captivity he had lost a bit of himself, of who he was. He’d hoped after being freed he would be okay, but he wasn’t. He was still in a nightmare.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Marie moaned, thinking she had been doing a lot of that lately. Not only did her throat ache, but her back, head and face hurt as well. When she shifted, a pain went through her foot.

  Suddenly, she recalled what had happened in the other room. The man had found her and a struggle had ensued, ending with an explosion in her face and the hard blow of the wall against her back and head.

  Marie went still, wondering where the man was now. Realization set in she was lying on a cot, covered with a blanket and a pillow under her head. How had she gotten here?

  She sat up slowly and ran her hands over her face, wincing when she touched the bruise on her cheek. Moving the blanket off her foot, she noticed the bruising and angry scrapes and cuts from where she had worked her ankle free from the manacle.

  Marie. You are such an idiot.

  She had chased a dream, which had been only that—a dream. Though the man looked like the one to whom she had spoken during the dark of night didn’t mean her dreams had been a reflection of something, which had really been happening. This was all a coincidence, she told herself. Nothing else. The man certainly had not dreamt of her. If he had, he would have realized she wasn’t a party to his captivity.

  An object behind the toilet caught her attention. Leaning forward and focusing her eyes, she saw the screwdriver she had picked up in the lab after hearing a strange noise. She glanced at the door and held her breath, listening for the man. Not hearing anything, Marie scooted off the cot and grabbed the screwdriver. Her heart beat heavily from fear of being discovered.