Chiromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 8)

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Chiromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 8) Page 7

by Charmaine Pauls


  “Take him over there,” one of the armed men said, “strip him, and hold him down.”

  Sky went cold as she understood Doumar’s fate.

  Doumar started struggling for his life as the three men stepped up and grabbed his arms and legs. “No!”

  “You can scream all you want,” Godfrey said. “No one will hear you here.” He nodded at the man who stood next to his door. “Bring him back when you’re done, and make sure he feels like a whore who disobeyed.”

  “With pleasure,” the man said with a sadistic grin. “You sure you don’t want me to kill him?”

  “I still need him.”

  The others had pushed Doumar to the ground. She could no longer see him through the grass. The door closed on the sounds of Doumar’s begging, and then the car started moving again.

  She’d been taken against her will and with violence plenty of times, but only by Doumar. What awaited him was a cruel gang rape, and even if she hated her owner with every fiber of her being, she couldn’t wish him that kind of fate, not when she remembered with startling clarity what it felt like.

  “Please.” She clasped her hands together so Godfrey wouldn’t see them trembling. “He’s just jealous. He didn’t mean to.”

  “You should’ve told me Doumar crashed your party. How should I punish you for hiding the truth?”

  Just like that, he turned the tables on her. She bit down on her tongue to stop her teeth from chattering. Her whole body had broken out in a cold sweat. If he wanted, Godfrey could hurt her worse than Doumar ever did. Better the devil you knew.

  She gave him a level look. “How could I say something with Doumar in the car?”

  “He’s not in the car, now. Anything you’d like to say?”

  Thinking quickly, she faked a calmness she didn’t feel. “It was the watch.”

  “What?”

  “The weapon. You asked if he carried a weapon.”

  “Why the watch?”

  “He had nothing else. He gave me his jacket to wear. I felt through the pockets. There was no phone. His jeans fitted snugly. I would’ve seen the shape of a phone if he carried one. He knows his team is after me. He wouldn’t have come unarmed. It’s too dangerous. He may want me, but he’s no fool. That made me think about what else he was wearing, and there was only that watch. Then I remembered how different it was, not your average watch.”

  Godfrey regarded her thoughtfully. “Describe it to me.”

  “It’s square with an electronic face, much like the new model iWatch, but thicker.”

  “A wrist pad.” He tapped a forefinger on his chin. “Advanced piece of technology. Difficult to come by.” A smile cracked his face. “Good work, Miss Val. This is the key to the success we’ve been looking for. The device works via satellite, but it’ll be too well encrypted for me to break through their code. Inside that piece of equipment is a chip that, if hacked, will give me access to all of Cain Jones’s secrets, to everything I need to know.”

  “Good. Then my job is done?” she asked hopefully.

  “Your job is far from over. You need to steal the chip.”

  “Steal it?”

  “Copy it. They can’t know we have it until it’s too late.”

  “I’m not sure I can help. I’m no good with electronics.”

  “All you need is to create the opportunity. I’ll show you what needs to be done. We will copy the chip, and when I have all the information, I will strike when Jones expects it the least.”

  “Why waste your energy on a futile mission? They’re all going to die, anyway.”

  “Oh, but I want to see them die. I want to watch Jones and his team suffer. Yes, it will be slow and agonizing. Finally, I shall triumph. The fact that you’ve seen it in their future only confirms I will succeed.”

  How could she lie to Bono more than she already had? She’d seen the hurt in his eyes last night when she’d kissed Doumar. He didn’t deserve it. She couldn’t face him again. “Wouldn’t it be easier to simply follow him?”

  “I already have. This time, I’m one step ahead of them. I know exactly where they are.”

  “I don’t understand. Why don’t you just take them out if you already know where to find them?”

  “Because I need Jones’s information. I need a list of the names of the people he protects, and the ones who protect him. Once I have my hands on that chip, I will pull his organization out by the roots.”

  “Can’t you steal it from where they’re staying?”

  “Their environment will be protected with self-destructing devices. Once their security is breached, the building and everything electronic will blow up. Trust me, I use the same drastic measure and unfortunately have first-hand experience of such an event.” His eyes grew hard. “It was the day Jones’s assassin killed my daughter.”

  If she was trembling before, now she was shaking. The extent both parties were willing to go to was testimony of the seriousness of the war. “What will you do when his team is dead?”

  He gave her an incredulous look, as if the answer was obvious. “Take world power, of course.”

  Who would be hungry enough for world power? It seemed like too big a burden for one man, to control everyone on earth. Her gut warned her to heed caution, but she couldn’t help herself from asking, “Why? Except material wealth and a whole lot of stress, what can you possibly gain from such power?”

  He stared at her for a while. “Immortality.”

  A shocked silence followed. When she’d gathered her wits, she risked another question. “For who?”

  “Me.”

  “What about the rest of us?”

  “Only the toughest will survive.”

  She itched to read his palm so she could have a glimpse inside his deranged mind. Leaning forward, she reached for his hand. “May I?”

  “Careful, Miss Val.” His look was cold. “You’ve seen what I do with disobeying whores. You don’t want to know what I do with traitorous whores.”

  She retracted her hand. Not much of Godfrey’s talk made sense, except that he wanted the whole of Jones’s team dead. A sudden insight tightened her gut. “You knew they’d come after me, didn’t you? You used me as bait.”

  He shrugged. “At the time, I thought it would be your greatest value to me. I have to admit, it worked out better than planned. I knew if Doumar flaunted your talent enough, they’d come for you, thus I was always prepared, but I never could’ve guessed you’d bring me right into the heart of their organization.”

  Hatred tasted bitter in her mouth. “Why would they come for me? Is it because we’re connected to you?”

  “It’s because of your talent. They’re charged with hunting their own kind, people like you, who work for the opposite side.”

  “I see.” She looked at the darkened window. “Are there many others like me?”

  “You’re the only Chiromancist, but there are six others.”

  “Seven arts,” she mused. The people she’d seen in Joss’s palm. She’d heard tales about them, legends that had been passed on through the centuries.

  “Correct. You’re the seventh, the last of the arts.” He gave a snort-laugh. “It’s kind of fitting that it’s you who’ll destroy them. Seven is my lucky number.”

  “How did you know about last night, about Doumar?” It was vital that she knew if she was being watched.

  “Satellite. I know everything. Nothing can escape my eyes, so don’t even try. Double-cross me, and I’ll skin your son alive and wear him as a pelt.” The car came to a stop. “Tomorrow, I will show you how to copy the chip.” He opened the door. “You’re home, Miss Val. Get me what I need, and I won’t have to kill your son.”

  “What about Doumar?”

  “He’ll soon realize the truth. It has never been about him.” His smile was plastic, like a curve painted on a doll’s face. “It has always been about you.”

  He didn’t move up, but made her climb over him to exit the car. Before she straightened, he grab
bed her wrist and pushed something into her palm. His skin was as cold as a dead serpent. She looked at the smartphone in her hand.

  “You need a phone. It’ll make contact with Mr. Black easier. If you wait for him to pitch at will, it may take longer than I’m prepared to wait.”

  Doumar had always denied her the use of a phone. “Is it tracked?”

  “Of course, and bugged.”

  She was still looking at the phone when the car took off, leaving her standing on the pavement in front of the trailer park. In the heat of the summer day, she shivered with a chill. What Godfrey had said and what was happening to Doumar were too much. Finally, Godfrey had made his demand. The price for saving Niels’s life was the lives of others. She couldn’t do this to Bono and live with herself, but how was she supposed to live with giving up on her son?

  Rushing inside her home, she lifted the cookie jar from the shelf and opened the false bottom. It had been a joke, a gift for her birthday from one of the guards at the club. Doumar had let her keep it, but he didn’t know about the hiding place. Removing the bills, she counted them. Two hundred euros. She sealed the money in an envelope, pulled on a jacket, and, keeping the satellite surveillance in mind, took a long way through shops and buildings to the payphone on the corner. For this call, she couldn’t use a tapped phone. Glancing up and down to make sure she wasn’t watched, she dialed a number she knew by heart.

  Frans de Jong picked up after the second ring. “Frans, hier.”

  “It’s Sky,” she said in Dutch. “I’ve got more money. Can we meet?”

  “Same place?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll be there in an hour.”

  She hung up, closing her hand around the envelope in her pocket.

  Chapter Six

  “You’ve got to be shitting me.” Joss took the poster from Lann and held it up to the light. ‘Medusa Movement, the new way to light’ was splashed in a gritty red print over yellow paper with a watermark of the number seven crossed out in the background. “Where did you find this?”

  The Russian pulled off his glasses and cleaned it with the hem of his shirt. “It was glued to a lamppost near Doumar’s club.”

  Sara, Maya, Sean, and Cain, who were in the kitchen, moved closer. Bono’s eye socket started to itch. He watched from the outskirts, sipping his coffee.

  “Call the others,” Cain said, his voice uncharacteristically tense.

  Sean left to execute the command.

  “Do you really think it’s got something to do with us?” Maya asked.

  Cain sounded regretful. “Without a doubt.”

  “Why?” Sara left the knife she was using to chop vegetables on the counter and wiped her hands on a dishcloth. “I thought we had government protection.”

  “We do,” Cain said, “but information leaking out about our existence was bound to happen.” He motioned with his head at the piece of paper. “This is the reaction I feared.”

  Sean returned with Clelia and Ivan.

  “What’s up?” Ivan asked.

  “Oh no.” Clelia moved to Joss’s side and studied the poster. “A revolution.”

  “The public has found out about us,” Cain said, “and they’re going on a witch hunt.”

  “But why?” Sara asked again. “We’re fighting wars to keep them safe.”

  Joss put his arm around Clelia, pulling her to his side. “People fear what they don’t understand.”

  “Why now and why here are what we should be asking,” Lann said.

  “I’ll tell you why.” Sean crossed his arms over his chest. “Times are frightening. People are grasping at straws. They’ll follow any movement that’ll make them feel safer.”

  “They’re fanatics,” Lann said. “Fanatics are dangerous, and according to a shop owner near the club I asked about it, they’ve already gained a lot of ground worldwide.”

  “How could this have happened right under our noses?” Clelia asked.

  “It’s a secret movement,” Cain said. “They would’ve stayed underground until they’re strong and numbered enough to surface.”

  Sara picked up the knife and resumed to chop an onion. “You’re saying they’re already strong and numbered?”

  “I’m saying we shouldn’t take this lightly.”

  “We don’t have time for chasing fanatical witch hunters.” Ivan looked around the group. “Not while we’re hunting Godfrey and so close on his tail, too.”

  Maya studied the print. “Medusa. That’s our clue.”

  “The winged woman with the monstrous face and venomous snakes for hair who turned those who gazed upon her into stone,” Lann said. “It has a ring of mythology. I’ll have Katherine look into it.”

  “Keep your ears on the ground.” Cain took the poster from Joss and pinned it to the message board. “For now, our priority remains Godfrey.”

  “Talking of which,” Joss turned to Bono, “what’s the progress?”

  “I have to go slow with her.” For the mission, but also for selfish reasons that had nothing to do with finding Godfrey. “Rushing it may ruin everything.”

  “I need something soon,” Cain said, “or we’ll have to use a quicker method.”

  Trying to keep his cool, he didn’t change his casual stance. “Such as?”

  “Torture,” Joss said darkly.

  His fingers clenched around the mug. Over his dead body. The porcelain splintered with a fractured sound, coffee sloshing over his shirt and jeans.

  The kitchen had gone quiet. Maya gave an inconspicuous warning shake of her head.

  “Damn Delft,” he said, grabbing a paper towel from the counter and dabbing at his shirt. “Thin as paper.”

  “You’ve got a strong hand. You’re too used to handling joysticks,” Maya said, coming to his rescue.

  As he bent down to gather the broken shards, Clelia loosened herself from Joss’s embrace and placed a hand on his arm. “I’ll get it. You go change for your date.”

  He offered her a grateful smile, knowing she’d given him a means of escape.

  “Where are you taking Sky?” Lann asked.

  “Wherever the lady wants to go.”

  ~ * ~

  Frans sat at a metal table in front of the zoo kiosk with a cup of coffee in front of him when Sky arrived. He was a PI who operated on the lower end of the social scale, but he had a trustworthy reputation, and he was all she could afford.

  Worried that Godfrey would have her followed by a footman or satellite, she’d taken the metro and changed over several times, walking through malls and covered markets until she was sure she’d lost any possible tails. The precautions had made her late.

  She sat down in the vacant chair. “Sorry you had to wait,” she said in Dutch. “I had to make sure I wasn’t followed.”

  “I understand.”

  Taking the envelope from her pocket, she pushed it toward him. “Two hundred.”

  He hesitated several seconds before snatching up the envelope and shoving it into his inside jacket pocket. “We’ll find your son. You mustn’t lose hope.”

  She dropped her head into her hands. “I don’t know how much longer I’ll last.”

  “Hey.” He pushed the coffee toward her. “Have a warm drink, why don’t you? Doumar is clever, but even clever people screw up sooner or later. You have to believe.”

  Tears she didn’t want or need burned at the back of her eyes. She took his hand over the table. “Thank you for being so kind. You’re my only friend.”

  “If I could, I’d help you for free, but a man’s got to eat, and there’s the missus and my kid.”

  Sniffing away her tears, she patted his hand. “I know. I’ll have more money soon. We have to hurry, Frans. You have to find him.”

  He leaned in. “I’m getting closer. I can feel it in my bones. You hang in there, little Sky. Before you know it, you’ll be together with your precious Niels.”

  She nodded, unable to speak with the lump in her throat. As always, Frans knew
when to be quiet. He was a man of few words, which was one of the things she appreciated about him.

  When she’d gathered herself, she pushed back the chair. “I have to go. I’ll call you in two days.”

  “If I find out anything before, I’ll get a message to you via the club.”

  “No,” she said quickly. “It’s too risky. If Doumar finds out…”

  “One day,” he clicked his tongue, “that son of a bitch is going to get what he deserves.”

  That day might have come. Godfrey was a devil who’d come to them disguised as a savior. All she could hope for was that Frans would find Niels before she had to betray Bono and his team.

  “Goodbye, Frans.” She got to her feet. “Find my son.”

  A look of resolution invaded his murky eyes. “I will. You take care, kid.”

  With a wave, she walked off, hurrying back home. It wasn’t a surprise to find Bono waiting by her caravan. She had expected him. What she wasn’t sure of was how he was going to react after last night.

  “Hey,” she said cheerfully, shaking her shoulders as if the physical act could expel the chill that had crept up with the night. “Come inside.”

  He straightened from where he leaned against the side of the caravan. Dressed in a stylish leather jacket, fitted shirt, tight jeans, and pointed dress shoes, he looked like he belonged in a club that served fifty-euro cocktails, not in a trailer park with a white trash girl who read palms in a sex club.

  The turmoil had to have showed on her face, because caution crept into his expression. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

  “I’m surprised you came back.”

  “You think I can’t handle a slap in the face?” He walked toward her. “I told you I was going to chase you hard.”

  “Why?”

  “Told you that, too. Would you like to hear it again?”

  “Sure. Why not?” she replied cheekily.

  A slow smile curved his lips. “What your family and Doumar did to you is illegal, not to mention immoral, so no more rules apply. I want you, and I’m going to take you, but we’re going to do it for the right reasons. Make no mistake, I’ll play as dirty and hard as necessary to make you part of my life.”

 

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