I lifted my right arm with my silver bracelet, stating, “Order: Call Odette Kramer.”
My bracelet buzzed.
“Mina?” Mother asked.
I began climbing the iron stairs. “I’m going home. Please let Father know I became tired.”
She paused for a moment, and then replied, “I’ll make your excuses. We’ll check on you when we get home.”
“Thank you,” I stated in comfort at her support.
“It’s okay. You came for as long as you could.”
“I love you. Bye, Mother.”
“I love you, too. Goodbye.”
My bracelet buzzed as she ended the call.
The panel inside the cabin glowed, well lit for a passenger’s needs. The stairs retracted and the door shut on its own while I typed in my home address. The clean blue energy keeping the train afloat hummed beneath my feet as the train started traveling. I sat on one of the seats, the other nine empty, and rested my head back against the headrest.
My hands shook on the armrests, remnant terror sizzling in my bones. I closed my eyes and thought of my old mathematics professor. The man bored so many students that many fell asleep in his class every day. It was the thought of his monotone voice, the baritone easy and smooth, that soothed—and bored—me enough that I sighed in relief. Leave it to a professor I had once hated, for having no zeal for teaching, to be the solution for centering oneself.
The train came to a swift, unexpected halt.
I screeched as my body flew forward, my arms flailing in the air, until I slammed against the bathroom door. I continued to flap my arms as gravity took hold and my body brushed all the way down the door to the floor.
I grunted, “Oomph!”
Nothing was broken. Nothing was broken.
Please don’t let any bones be broken.
The shock held me frozen on the ground, wondering what had caused the error to occur in the transport.
Would I be able to fix it and get home?
My hasty, fearful scream charged the air, the train suddenly falling to the street. My sprawled frame rose off the ground for a heartbeat, until the train slammed onto the road, and then I hit the floor again with a groan.
In the startling silence, I pressed my shaky hands to the floor of the train and pushed my torso up, peering around the cabin. No alarms were blinking inside, which would be normal for a collision. The train was still intact, nothing out of place.
Except for my quivering body lying on the floor.
“What in the world?” I panted.
The door to the train opened to the night.
My eyes slammed wide, and my body jerked.
A new form of terror entered my system.
There was a man in a mask standing in the doorway.
He pressed his sword against my throat, staring down at me on the floor. “Ms. Mina Kramer?”
“Yes,” I whispered, not moving my head.
“Get up. Now.”
CHAPTER FIVE
I walked up another set of iron stairs. My wrists stung from the dark, rough rope holding them captive behind my back. The pointed end of a sword pressed between my shoulder blades. My kidnapper climbed the stairs behind me. This train cabin was ancient, rust discoloring the outside, but the clean blue energy powering the transport was thrumming with perfection.
I stopped just inside the train, my eyes scanning the interior. There were two seats inside, the rest bare. My frightened eyes snared on a female on her knees and facing the far wall. With her hands tied behind her back as well, her forehead rested against the wall as if she slept or was unimpressed with being held prisoner.
My eyes snapped to my captor. “Who are you?”
His sword swung to the other woman. “Go over there. On your knees and keep your mouth shut.” The mask didn’t allow me to see any of his features, except for his brown eyes. “I need you alive, but that doesn’t mean your body has to be in perfect condition for this.”
I snapped my mouth shut with his threat.
I fisted my hands inside their binding and hurried to the woman. My dress snagged on my knees. However, I managed to land on said knees without injury, facing the wall. Our kidnapper tapped a destination onto the panel, the door shut, and the old train jerked slightly as it started to travel. I sucked in a sharp breath when he squatted behind me and tugged on my arms, pulling them up.
“What are you doing?” I mumbled, my face hitting the wall. “I did as you ordered.”
“Actually, you’re still talking,” he grumbled.
I held still as he pushed the rope just a little. My lips thinned as he began messing with my silver bracelet on my right wrist, the one item my parents could track if they needed to.
“He took mine too,” the woman grumbled in annoyance, her forehead still against the wall and staring at the floor. “Do you know how long the line is at New City Hall to get another one of those? And the fine I’ll have to pay?”
“Shut. Up.” The man grunted and removed my only protection. He released my arms and stood to his feet, only to sit on one of the chairs. “You two don’t listen very well.”
I pulled my face back from the wall and peeked at the woman. I hesitated to rebel against our captive’s dictates, but if this woman knew something I didn’t, I wanted to know it.
I whispered, “Why aren’t you scared?”
She sighed and turned her head, her forehead still leaning against the wall. Her blue eyes, not unlike my own, stared directly into mine. She mumbled, “I’m sure my dad is up to this, another one of his ways to torment me. We won’t be hurt—not seriously, anyway. When he’s done having his fun, we’ll be released.”
I pulled my brows together. I kept my voice down, even though she hadn’t. “Why would your father have you kidnapped? Or have me taken?”
I didn’t know this woman.
“Because he’s a twisted sonofabitch. He enjoys watching me suffer.” A black brow lifted. “And bringing you, a complete stranger, is to show me he has no mercy. He can find me anywhere, do anything to me, and bring innocent people along for the ride if he wishes it to happen.”
I stared. “You should contact the CA about him.”
“I’ve given up on them. There’s never proof.”
“Oh.” My mouth gaped open.
She turned her head to stare back at the floor. She breathed in exhaustion. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry this is happening to you.”
My lips thinned, overwhelming sympathy for her as I lowered my tense shoulders—even given my predicament. “And I’m sorry you have him for a father.”
She grunted as she peeked at me again. Her guarded eyes scanned my face for sincerity, finding it easily. A strand of her black hair fell across her left eye. “I’m Megan Marshall.”
I attempted to smile, though it probably resembled a grimace. “My name’s Mina Kramer.”
Our ‘captor’ kicked my feet from where he was sitting messing with my bracelet, tiny tools in one of his hands. “I won’t say it again. Keep quiet. Or I’ll start removing your tongues so you can’t speak any longer.”
My nostrils flared in alarm. That sounded like a ‘serious’ injury to me, even if Megan didn’t think losing body parts was. I scooched closer to her, removing my person from his kicking range.
The man’s chuckle was smug. “And just so we’re all clear on one fact, Ms. Marshall’s criminal father has nothing to do with this. Absolutely nothing.” He eyed both of us as we snapped our attention to him. It sounded as if he were smiling as he stated simply, “Master wants to test both of you.”
CHAPTER SIX
The train traveled for at least four hours. Even with an old train, it took us far out of New City. My legs and my arms cramped with stiff muscles when our captor eventually ordered us to exit the cabin. The sky was deep into the nocturnal dark, only a sliver of the moon to light our way.
My lips pinched into a thin line as I stepped over numerous rotting pieces of debris where a house
once stood. Weeds caught on my ankles and pointy rocks stabbed up through the soles of my heels. I maneuvered around a burned couch covered in black mildew that lay on its back, personal belongings from a time long past scattered all over the rocky outcropping.
I had never seen such devastation.
I knew of it, read about it. However, I had never personally viewed it with my own eyes, my entire life spent in New City. It was like a bomb had landed atop a personal home in the middle of nowhere, the meaning and story behind this battle long forgotten—or never even told.
This crumpled home was a crypt to the past where no one should trespass. War had done this, and our people had learned their lesson, the future now hopeful through peace and intelligence.
It was a strategy the corporate kings—the monsters—did right so far. They created a path for a future.
The thought was hard to accept.
Monsters creating a peaceful life for humans.
And the beasts were not human.
It boggled the mind if thought on too hard. Many sleepless nights had left me with no inspiration to their reasoning. Even more hours spent locked inside our townhome, wandering the hallways with restlessness, trying to deduce how long they had even existed. From my studies at the university, I was sure that the Mr. King, who currently ran King Corporation, was, in fact, the man who had stopped the war—all descriptions led to him.
That was one hundred and fifty years ago.
Was it possible immortality was real?
Because I could use a little of it right now.
We stopped in front of a weather-torn structure that had survived whatever had destroyed the house—but not by much. It had a pointed roof, half caved in, and paint that was perhaps once red but was now faded pink. The wood siding was rotting, allowing light to filter through each slat from inside the structure, shadowing the ghostly and broken possessions lying outside on the ground.
A nightmare building brought to life.
Our kidnapper placed a skeleton key into the lock on the door. “You’ll have to excuse the mess inside. Those women weren’t what Master was searching for. They didn’t pass the test.”
I repeatedly blinked as he opened the rickety door, blinding light pouring out on us and into the gloom.
He didn’t allow our eyes time to adjust.
Our captor shoved Megan and me on the back, sending us stumbling inside. He followed in, the door shutting behind us with a hard snap.
Megan gasped, taking a step back. She thrashed her head back and forth in denial, her black hair flying out in either direction. She mumbled in shock, “My father is sick, but this isn’t his brand of torture…” She jerked her head to our captor, her eyes narrowed, new spirit entering the quiet woman as she reassessed him. “Who the hell are you exactly? You said something about a Master, right? What kind of sick fuck do you work for?”
I couldn’t breathe.
Megan may be able to handle this scene.
But I could not.
I promptly bent over and threw up all the alcohol left in my stomach—and a little of my chicken dinner. I coughed and choked, my stomach clenching with each heave. The aroma of the dead bodies to our right only continued to upset my stomach further. My throat burned as I threw up again, the last bits of any remaining food in my stomach making an appearance.
The dampness on my cheeks from pained tears cooled my heated skin. I spit until the last of the vomit was out of my mouth. My legs were weak, but I straightened when a scuffle shoved me to the side.
Megan kicked and bit at our kidnapper.
Except her restrained hands hindered her attack.
Within a minute, he had her in a chokehold.
Her eyelashes fluttered, and her lips parted, sucking for oxygen. She stared directly into my eyes, blinking as fast as a bee’s wings flickering in the air, the skin on her face turning a nasty red as he tightened his hold around her neck.
“Stop!” I shouted, rushing forward.
“I’m not killing her,” he griped, peering down to watch her face. “I’m just putting her to sleep.”
It only took a few seconds, his words honest.
He slung her limp weight over his right shoulder and wrapped one of his arms around her legs to keep her in place, then took a menacing step toward me. “Do I need to do this to you, too?”
My eyes flicked to the nine dead bodies piled up against the wall like cards, their heads against the other wall, lined up like candles.
I quickly peered back at him and swallowed on a sore throat. I shook my head, and whispered, “I’ll behave.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Our captor opened the back door in the death room, ushering me into a pitch-black hallway, the only light from the room behind us. My lips pinched as I walked in front of him on shaky legs and stopped at another door. He reached around me to the doorknob and opened it, still holding Megan over his shoulder, her butt hitting the back of my head.
He ordered, “Inside, Ms. Kramer.”
I walked into the new space and stared at the hundreds of black, frightening mannequins standing in the vast room. The area smelled like mud as if there were piles of dirt on the floor and rain had poured inside, but the space was immaculate with concrete flooring, and the roof was intact—in this area.
“Don’t touch them,” he hissed when I eyed one for too long. “You won’t like the result if you do.”
I nodded and swallowed, following orders.
Those figures spooked the soul.
No eyes. Obsidian leather ‘skin.’
Gaping mouths the length of my forearm.
Black claws that were as sharp as blades.
This place truly was a nightmare.
One I may not wake from, my mind added.
My mortality was slipping through my fingers with each passing minute. I needed to do something.
“My parents are filthy rich,” I blabbed, peering into his eyes. “You could ask for any amount of money, and they would give it to you for my safe return.”
He shoved me forward to the center of the room where a small glass enclosure stood. “This isn’t about money for me, Ms. Kramer, so save your pleas.”
I kept walking forward but glanced over my shoulder. I asked quickly, “What are you doing this for? Maybe I can help you. Or my parents. Aside from money, my family is influential in New City.”
“I know who your parents are. I’d done my reconnaissance before I high-jacked the train’s system.”
“You didn’t answer me,” I pleaded frantically, almost at the enclosure. “What can I do for you? I can do it better than your master can. I promise.”
He snorted. “Not likely.”
“Healthcare. Money. Social status. Homes. Vacation homes. Trains. A business. A new name. Anything you want, I can give it to you.”
My captor rolled his eyes. “Do you have a cure for growing old, Ms. Kramer? Because, if you don’t, then you are wasting your breath on pretty words for me.”
I blinked, and then sputtered, “I may have that.”
Mr. King.
His eyes narrowed, and his hand paused on the handle to the glass room. “What do you mean? I know all of the latest technology, and the fountain of youth doesn’t exist yet in the medical field.”
“I know someone,” I hedged. I had snared his attention, captured his interest. I couldn’t lose this advantage. “I think this someone is very old, older than any human who has ever lived. There has to be a way this person has survived that long—and still be perfectly young and healthy.”
He stared. “You know absolutely nothing, do you?”
“No, I swear I’m not lying!”
“I didn’t say you were,” he muttered as he opened the door to the enclosure. He tipped his head to the side, indicating I should enter without force. “I’m saying you know nothing about magic.”
“Magic?” I didn’t want to go inside.
“Get. In. There.”
My chin trembled and te
ars sprung to my eyes.
I whispered in mutiny, “No.”
“Wrong answer.”
I screamed as he grabbed the back of my head with his free hand. He gripped my hair in a fist and shoved me into the room with too much force. I toppled on my side and rolled a few feet, landing on my back with my bound hands pinned beneath me.
My eyes found his, terrified. “Don’t do this!”
He set Megan gently on the floor next to me.
“Please,” I screamed at his retreating back.
He stepped out of the glass room and locked it.
I shook my head, scrambling for any thought. “Magic, right? Men change into animals! I know that! I can help you, I swear it.”
His eyes blinked, and his head cocked. “Maybe you will pass Master’s test, since you know that much. I imagine he’ll be extremely pleased with me.”
“I have names of the men! The beasts.”
“They’re called shifters, Ms. Kramer,” he stated patiently, staring through the glass at my prone body on the floor. “Anyway, Master will be here sometime after the sun rises. It is late, you know. I’d rather not wake him right now.”
This man wasn’t going to back down, his mind set.
“Wait,” I hissed, my eyes wide in terror. “What is this test? Help me pass it. I want to live.”
He was quiet, staring. Thoughtful.
“Please.”
His masked head shook, his tone deathly serious. “I’ll be honest with you. The dead you saw out there? That is what you want. You want Master to kill you that way. The living he’ll give you won’t be living at all.”
My brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Rape…
“He’ll steal your soul, Ms. Kramer. Only if he dies or your body dies will your enslaved soul release to wherever souls go after death. But if one of those two things doesn’t happen, he’ll keep your soul forever, and your body will be a living corpse, dead but linked to Master for eternity.”
I sputtered in disbelief, “You’ve done that to someone?”
“Not yet. But I helped Master create the spell.”
Transcend (Origin Book 2) Page 3
