by Kris Tualla
Hollis began to whimper, hoping that a change of tone might prompt Everett to free her mouth. Pulling off that tape was going to hurt like a mother, but at this point she didn’t care.
“Oh, stop it.” Everett looked annoyed.
She didn’t.
He halted again. “Hollis, this is all on you. Don’t you see that?”
How? she shouted from behind the tape.
He smiled like he understood her. “You put that picture on the internet, and then labeled it with both the Norse name and the English translation,” he said in the sort of tone someone uses when explaining anything simple to a complete idiot. “You paved the road. All I had to do was follow it.”
Hollis looked at Sveyn. Help me.
“I cannot understand you, Hollis. I am so sorry.” The tensed Viking looked like he was about to explode.
“There. Finished.” Everett stood. “Try to move.”
Hollis sat still.
“I said, try to move.” Everett leaned over, made a fist, and punched her in the stomach.
Hollis would have doubled over if she wasn’t taped to the girder from head to hips with multiple layers of duct tape. Instead, all she could do was desperately suck air through her nostrils, into lungs which were compressed by her captivity, and pray she didn’t pass out. Again.
“Good.” Everett dropped the remainder of the roll into a bag and giggled. “Now to go claim my own Precious.”
Sveyn knelt in front of her, his face an illustration of his distress. “Can you breathe?”
Hollis was slowly regaining her body’s disrupted rhythm.
Um hmm.
“Good.” Sveyn’s concern deepened. “Did he give you some sort of drug?”
Um hmm.
“Do you know what it was?”
Um hmm.
If it was possible for the apparition’s blood to drain from his face, then it just happened to Sveyn. “He put it in your wine when you used the toilet, didn’t he?”
Hollis began to cry. This wasn’t Sveyn’s fault.
“Answer me, Hollis!” he shouted.
She tried to say it’s not your fault, but was back to making nothing but the drowning bear noises. Tears spilled down her cheeks, turning them cold in the climate-controlled space.
“That was the moment, was it not? And if I had stayed with him, I could have stopped you from drinking it!” Sveyn tried to punch the girder, but his fist passed through it. “God damn it all to hell!”
Though the Viking raged violently, Everett was unaware. He returned with the Blessing tucked under his arm and stopped in front of Hollis. He clacked his heels together and gave her a little bow.
“I hope you have a pleasant weekend, my dear. I expect I’ll be in some unnamed country, enjoying my new immortality long before you’re found.”
Sveyn leapt to his booted feet and charged through Everett’s body.
Everett flinched. “Stevie said this place was haunted. That must explain the one odd reading.”
He pulled Hollis’s key card from his pocket. “You came in at eight o’clock tonight. And then you left at, what?” Everett looked at his watch. “Nine. Nothing weird about that.”
When he turned to leave, Hollis let loose a scream that ripped at her vocal chords. She was crying uncontrollably, and straining uselessly at her bounds.
She couldn’t move anything at all.
“Save your energy,” he called over his shoulder. “Monday’s a long way off.”
The steel door to the storage area thunked closed. The overhead lights went out. A moment later, the alarm whooped, announcing to the world that the system was at its post and everything inside the building was safe.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Only, Hollis wasn’t safe.
“I am still here, Hollis.” Sveyn’s voice was the only thing keeping her from descending into a debilitating state of panic at that moment. “I know you cannot see me, but you are not alone.”
“Help me,” she sobbed.
“I want so badly to help you, but I don’t know how.”
“Hold me. At least try.”
She knew he couldn’t understand her words past the tape on her mouth, but she said it anyway. It was better than doing nothing, seeing nothing, moving nothing, and going completely mad.
“I feel so powerless right now.” His voice cracked. “God in Heaven, please hear me. I beg you to save this woman, even though You did not see fit to save me.”
Sveyn was praying?
Well if anyone knew for certain that there was life after death, it would be him.
Or after almost death, anyway.
Keep talking.
“Do you want me to remain quiet?
“Uh uh.” Hollis used the back of her tongue to make the hard edges of uh uh different from the soft sounds of um hmm.
“Say yes.”
“Um hmm.”
“Say no.”
“Uh uh.
“Good. I understand you.”
That little bit of communication pushed her panic back a tiny notch.
“Oh, God. What can I do?”
Hollis had no answers.
“If only I had stayed back when you went to the toilet.” His voice jerked back and he emitted a strangled gasping sound. “I should have followed him now! When he went outside!”
“Uh uh!”
“Yes! Do not worry—I will come back straight away. I promise you, Hollis.”
No no no no please please please don’t leave me here in the dark all by myself.
Hollis squeezed her eyes shut, though the room was absolutely black. When her eyes were opened, she imagined she could see things, scary things, that could not possibly be there.
Hollis started counting, out loud, in grunts behind the tape. Anything to occupy her mind.
She got to seventy-two before she heard Sveyn’s voice near her again.
“He was gone. I went down the road as far as I was able, but there was no sign of him.”
“Um hmm.”
Sveyn began to huff the sort of breath sounds that a man makes when he is trying not to cry. “I have failed you, Hollis.”
“Uh uh!”
“I have. It’s true! I am damned, and this is my hell…”
His voice moved away from her and disintegrated into a jumble of raw wails, rough bellows, and enraged rants—none of which Hollis could understand. But she unmistakably understood the emotions behind them.
Sveyn had told her countless times how he was compelled by his nature to protect her, and how frustrating it was for him not to be able to interact with the physical world. Before tonight, that point was only philosophical.
Tonight, however, she was in a very bad way.
Sixty-five hours stood between her and the first chance of rescue. Sixty five hours of no water. No food. Peeing on herself. Body parts pressed together long enough to cause the skin to die. Circulation cut off severely enough to cause permanent damage to limbs.
Hell indeed.
The panic she had momentarily tamped down surged again, renewed by Sveyn’s frightening roars as he moved all around her. He had been her emotional rock these last months. A steadying presence.
And now the man had gone berserk with fear, anger, and rage. He knew how dire her situation was—perhaps more clearly than she did.
Fresh tears flowed down her cheeks.
Don’t cry! You need the fluid!
It was no use. Terror had pushed her past self control.
“I don’t want to die,” she moaned. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.
Wracking sobs stung her already abused vocal chords, but she screamed against her constraints anyway.
Help.
Me.
Please.
I.
Don’t.
Want.
To.
Die.
WHOOP—WHOOP—WHOOP—WHOOP—WHOOP
The blinding security lights flashed on, illuminating every inch of
the storage area as the museum’s ear-piercing alarms blared out their warning.
Sveyn’s maniacal actions spun to a halt in front of her, his face ashen. “What has happened?”
The motion detectors.
His eyes widened under a plunging brow. “Is that the motion detector alarm?”
In spite of the deafening sounds, she answered, knowing he would hear her.
“Um hmm!”
The Viking staggered backward, his ragged features etched with disbelief. “Did I set them off?”
He must have.
Negative emotions.
Hollis started crying harder, hysterical with relief at her unexpected salvation, and stunned by the knowledge that Sveyn had saved her after all.
*****
Tony opened the steel door and three police officers entered the storage room with guns drawn.
“Oh God, Hollis!” He ran to her side and dropped to his knees as one of the cops radioed for the paramedics. “Are you badly hurt?”
“Uh uh,” she managed, though she doubted he could hear her over the shrieking alarm.
“Hold on—I’m going to turn the alarm off.” He jumped up and ran from the room. A moment later, the building was blissfully silent.
Two of the police officers fanned out and checked the room, though no one was there. Besides Sveyn, of course, who sat cross-legged on the floor at her feet, looking dazed and improbably exhausted.
The third cop knelt beside her, donning latex gloves. “I’m going to try to untape your mouth without hurting you too badly.”
“Um hmm.”
The officer used a small pair of angled scissors to cut through the layers of duct tape which also held her head against the girder. Then he began to peel it away from her cheeks.
Tony returned to her side. “Go easy.”
Hollis felt as though a full layer of skin was being removed from her face and was sure her lips would be swollen for a week. But she trusted that the officer was being as gentle as he could.
“There.” He put the tape in an evidence bag. “Can you speak?”
“Yes,” Hollis croaked.
“What’s your name?”
“Hollis McKenna.”
“Hollis, do you know your assailant?”
“Yes. Everett Sage.”
“Is he that guy who sent the roses?” Tony blurted.
Hollis ignored him. “I think he’s from Denver. We met on MatchPoint.”
“Do you know his motive?”
“Theft.”
“Do you know what he took?”
“Yes.” She did look at Tony, then. “He took the Blessing of the Gods.”
*****
The police officer who untaped her mouth continued to cut the bands of duct tape, freeing her to move.
“This tape is evidence, Hollis,” he said in a calm, matter-of-fact voice. “So are your clothes. Once you get to the hospital and take them off, I’ll need to collect everything that you’re wearing.”
“I understand.” God, but her voice sounded awful. Almost as bad as Sveyn looked.
“Is there someone we can call who will bring you something to wear when you are released?”
Hollis looked at Tony. “Will you call Stevie?”
“Sure. Does she have a key to your house?”
“No. But my purse is in my car. The keys are—” She looked at the nice, calm policeman. “Can I get my keys out of my pocket?”
“Yes, go ahead.”
Hollis wriggled her hand past the bands of tape and managed to pull out her keys while one officer called for the forensics team, and the other made another pass through the storage room. She handed the keys to Tony as the paramedics arrived.
Tony stood up and walked away, dialing his phone.
Three very handsome men with red metal cases squatted beside her and started pulling out various equipment: blood pressure cuff, stethoscope, penlight.
“What’s your name?” the one with the graying temples asked.
“Hollis.” As odd as it sounded, having all these men ask her name was unexpectedly calming. A bit of normalcy in a world so suddenly gone completely to crap.
“Hollis, what happened here?” He cut through the tape—and her favorite blazer sleeve—to find a place to take her blood pressure.
Damn.
“I was drugged—ruffies, I think. Then he brought me here and taped me to this pole.”
“Do you remember anything in between?”
“No.”
One paramedic took her pulse while another wrapped the pressure cuff around her arm. The one talking to her flashed the light in her eyes.
“Is it possible he was intimate with you?”
Hollis startled. Oh God no!
“I watched him,” Sveyn growled. “He was not.”
She blew a relieved breath. “I don’t think so. I’m still completely dressed.”
“That wasn’t what he was after,” Tony interrupted. Stepping forward he asked, “Do you know what hospital you’re taking her to?”
“Tempe St. Luke’s is the closest.”
“Thanks.” Tony returned to his conversation.
The older paramedic switched off the penlight. “Pupils are equal and responsive.”
“Blood pressure is ninety eight over sixty five.”
“Pulse is eighty three.”
The three men relaxed. Two of them repacked the gear.
“We are taking you to the hospital as a precaution. They’ll probably run some tests, and possibly keep you overnight.”
“Really?” Hollis wasn’t happy about that. “Why?”
“Because your blood pressure is still a bit low and you lost consciousness,” he explained. “And they will collect more evidence, if there is evidence to collect.”
They still think I was raped.
Well, that was the usual reason to ruffie a date—and she sure couldn’t tell them how she knew she wasn’t.
The two guys who packed the gear carried the cases out and returned with a gurney.
“Stevie is on her way,” Tony said. “I’ll stay here until the cops finish up.” He made a face. “Benton is going to be pissed.”
*****
Hollis lay on the hospital bed, exhausted both mentally and physically. Her blood work confirmed the presence of Rohypnol and she agreed to press charges. The cops had taken a complete statement, along with her taped-up clothes, before Stevie arrived.
Because of the theft of a valuable museum piece, the case’s priority was elevated above just assault and abduction. An APB was issued for Everett Sage, and the Buttes hotel, the rental car company, and the airport were all contacted.
“I hope they find him,” Stevie fumed as she hung Hollis’s jeans and t-shirt in the hospital room’s closet. “I’d like to have just five minutes alone with him and his balls.”
Hollis smiled at the image of little Stevie laying into the smug Ph.D. At least that was one thing to smile about.
“How could I have been so stupid?” she mumbled. “Why was I so taken in?”
“Stop that. You hardly had a chance to know him. He had an agenda, and he went after it. Aggressively.” Stevie set Hollis’s purse on the bedside table, turned off the overhead lights, and sat on the edge of the bed. “You must have been terrified.”
Hollis nodded, unable to find her voice.
“All alone, in the dark, and no one knowing you were there.”
Hollis looked at Sveyn, sitting in the chair in the corner, looking miserable. She nodded again.
“There is one thing I didn’t catch, though.”
She returned her gaze to her friend. “What?”
“How did you set off the motion detectors? Tony said you were wrapped up like a mummy in duct tape.”
“I honestly don’t know.” That was actually the truth—she didn’t know how Sveyn tripped the detectors. “All I remember is panicking and crying.”
Sveyn straightened in his chair. His eyes narrowed.
&nbs
p; “Well you must have been struggling enough that the sensors picked up something,” Stevie offered. “Maybe they are set to detect the smallest movement, like your chest when you breathed.”
“I’m sure that was it.” Hollis yawned.
Stevie took the hint. “Get some sleep, now. Text me tomorrow when you want me to pick you up.”
“Thanks, Stevie.”
Stevie patted her hand. “I’ll close the door.”
Alone with Sveyn, Hollis slid to one side of the single bed. “Come lay beside me?”
The Viking rose from the chair and climbed onto the bed next to her.
“I don’t want to be alone right now.” Hollis looked into his eyes. “Even if I can’t feel you, I know you’re here.”
“I know how scared you must have been,” he murmured. “Because I was out of my head. This was the most frightening thing I have ever experienced.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Hollis whispered. “You were a Viking.”
“Fighting when you have control does not cause fear. The prospect of losing your life is an accepted possibility. But tonight, I had no control. I could not save you.”
“So you thought.” Hollis sighed. “I think it was your fear, and anger, and frustration—those negative emotions—which caused some sort of energy release and tripped the alarm.”
“You might be right.” He pushed his hair out of his face. “I certainly felt all of that. In excess.”
Hollis stared at him. “Your hair moved.”
Sveyn held his hand in front of his face. “Did it?”
“Yes. It was in your face and you pushed it away.”
He shifted his regard to her. “I did?”
“Didn’t you feel it?”
“I am not certain.” He shook his head. “I confess that I am not certain of anything this night.”
“I am certain of one thing.” Hollis held her palm close to Sveyn’s cheek, savoring the tingle on her skin that told her he was real. “You—my big, handsome, Viking apparition—saved my life.”
“It was my greatest honor.” Sveyn gave her a tired smile. “Now sleep. You are safe. And I will not leave your side.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Saturday
October 24
Hospitals never sleep. And patients, by extension, don’t sleep well. So Hollis was awake, though trying very hard not to be, when her phone rang.
