So that explained it. “What about that…whatever it was when he blasted power out of his hand. You said something the other night about moving energy with your hands. Is that the kind of thing you meant?”
“Yes.”
Oh, crap. Mel steeled herself. “Don’t tell me that’s energy manipulation, too.”
“Yes, it is, at a very high level.” His face set in unhappy lines, he added, “You wanted to take things slowly. I’d planned to tell you this part soon.”
Mel nodded, beginning to see just how much more there was than what he’d shared so far. But there were more pressing issues. “Energy manipulation doesn’t explain a vanishing corpse. Or a librarian with lethal combat skills.”
“I told you,” Stefan reminded her, “there are gators in the swamp. Will is a fifth-degree black belt in two different fighting disciplines.”
“Okay, I can buy that Will likes a good fight and that a gator could take a corpse near the water.” No matter how uneasy that last was making her. “How do we explain the doctor who doesn’t flinch from a hand-to-hand encounter? Practice is one thing. Fighting a live opponent is altogether different. Even hard sparring, full contact, doesn’t explain this. Val and Griff, I can see. They’ve been cops. Stefan, you and Will fight as though you’ve done it before, for real. Lives-on-the-line real.”
And Stefan showed no shock or other after-effects of having taken a life. With his bare hands, at that. What was he, really?
He raised an eyebrow. “If I’d known ahead of time that you were coming out here, I would’ve moved up my timetable on our talk.”
“You still could’ve, on the way to meet Walt.”
He looked tense, worried. “It’s not a simple conversation, Mel.”
“Why not? What’s stopping you from being honest with me?” She’d listened to him, accepted him, despite her misgivings, and to be fair, he’d told her he could do a lot more. The shock of how much more was hitting her hard.
He shook his head. “Mel,” he said wearily, “why won’t you trust me? Haven’t I proven myself to you?”
The question stung. She kept her voice even with an effort. “I want to. I wish I could. Unfortunately, nothing about this has been simple for us.”
This was the second time a body had disappeared when Stefan was involved. That was once too often for coincidence. Not to mention she felt that weird vibe again.
They reached Thompson. A broad-shouldered, chestnut-haired man knelt beside him. The man stood to greet them.
“Carter,” Stefan said, “this is FBI Special Agent Mel Wray. Mel, Carter Lockwood. He happened to be in the area.”
Yeah, and maybe she might happen by the Eiffel Tower tomorrow. She exchanged courteous nods and handshakes with the man.
A backpack, probably with medical supplies, lay beside Walt. Stefan knelt to check him as the approaching sirens grew louder.
Sooner or later, they would have this out, but with the ambulance and the sheriff’s department cars screaming down the dirt road, it would have to wait.
* * *
Mop-up occupied them until well into the morning’s early hours. At five a.m., Burton assembled everyone in the courthouse conference room.
He beamed around the table. “As I said at the scene, boys and girls, damn good work.” Rubbing his hands together, he added, “We got us three hundred and thirty-two bricks of cocaine locked in our evidence room. I’m guessing those sumbitches brought it into the country through Florida, then up here for distribution where they figured nobody would see it.”
“No sign of the missing bodies, Sheriff,” Deputy Garner reported. “Looks like maybe gators got those three. Or they swam away.”
“Mine had a chest full of double-aught buckshot,” Griffin said.
“Mine was dead,” Stefan said. “I hit him hard. I guess his heart stopped, but I’m sure he was dead.”
“It’s damn weird, all right, but let’s just say I’m not real broken up over a gator gettin’ the body of somebody who tried to kill my team.” Burton shook his head. “If gators did get ’em, they’ll turn up sooner or later. Bits of ’em, anyway. Go home and get some sleep. I’m going to do the same, then read your reports.”
Mel fumed in silence. Three bodies disappearing—coincidentally only the three that looked like their assault and murder perps—while no one in the clearing noticed, was stretching possibility. Alligators couldn’t exactly move fast or quietly while dragging something big, and two of those bodies had fallen a good thirty to forty feet from the water.
She and Stefan left the sheriff’s department together. As he opened the passenger door of his car for her, he said, “We should try to get some sleep. We’re both beat.”
He was right about one thing. She was bone tired, but Mel shook her head. “I’m sorry, Stefan, but I’m going back to Cinda’s alone. There’s so much going on, and I’m struggling to wrap my head around everything.”
“Mel—”
“Please, Stefan. I’m trying on the trust issues. On the acceptance. But that isn’t going to work if you hide things from me. Or lie to investigators. I remember the fight at Wiley Boone’s house now, and I have this nasty feeling you and your friends tampered with evidence tonight.”
His eyes narrowed. “The bodies are gone, Mel. I didn’t take them. What do you want from me?”
“The truth. That’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”
“I’m taking this slowly, like you wanted. Trust is all I’ve ever wanted from you, and you can’t seem to give me that.”
“Then we’re at an impasse.” She rubbed the ache starting between her eyebrows. “I can’t trust you if I know you’re keeping things from me. That matters even more than the glowing, the energy bursts, the general weirdness.”
Stefan’s eyes reflected her pain. “Don’t shut me out,” he said. “If I’m going to lie awake, I’d rather be beside you while I do it.”
And she longed to have him there. The idea of going to bed without him made her heart hurt. But no relationship could last without mutual trust. “Do you know what happened to those bodies?”
His eyes softened. “Please Mel, just give me some time. I promise to tell you everything when the time is right.”
“Wrong answer.” It made the ache in her chest spread until she could hardly breathe.
Stefan turned into Cinda’s driveway and turned off the engine. He climbed out of the car as Mel did and met her in front of the hood, determination in the set of his jaw and the lines of his body.
Mel said, “I’d rather you didn’t come in.”
“That’s up to you. I spent your first night here watching the house from inside my car. I can spend tonight that way, too.”
The implications of that burned in the back of her throat. “There’s no need for you to stay. I live alone in Atlanta, you know.”
“In the Southeast’s largest city, surrounded by other people.” She started to speak, but he rolled over her. “Your Glock won’t stop these things. I’d rather sit in my car for no reason than find out this bastard killed you while I was asleep in my bed.”
His eyes proclaimed his sincerity, and it chipped away at her resolve. Mel shook her head, rubbing her hand over her face. “Oh, Stefan, what do I say to that?”
“We’re together because we care about each other. That means we watch each other’s backs. Even when there’s static between us.”
He looked so miserable that her heart cracked. He’d warned her this was all complicated, and he’d lost a friend who’d trusted the wrong person. Maybe he was doing his best. He was right that she’d asked him to take things slowly, though he’d also stalled when she asked to know more. So where did that leave them?
Wearily, he said, “Please trust me, sweet. Just a little longer.”
She’d thought the worst nine years ago and been wrong. Tonight, she’d rather err on the side of patience.
“Okay.” Mel offered him her hand. “Come on in.”
He kissed h
er knuckles, sending white heat up her arm. Even though he and she were at odds, it flashed into her tightening breasts and farther down to heat her belly.
He released her hand but pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. “I’ll grab my guitar from the trunk.”
As Mel started for the house, Stefan called after her, “Val packaged up some potato salad and—”
His words stopped in a cry. Mel wheeled as the reek of ammonia slammed into her nose. Rough hands grabbed each of her arms, and she groped for the weapon in her shoulder rig. Two men with purple eyes held her. She screamed and stomped the nearest foot. The guy didn’t even wince. What the hell?
The other man clamped a vile-smelling cloth over her nose and mouth. Mel held her breath, straining to reach the Glock under her left arm. Where was Stefan?
Two other assailants held him, one clawing at his shoulder. Stefan shuddered.
Mel’s vision blurred. Whatever was on the rag…
Her fingers closed around the Glock’s grip. She pulled it out, firing under her arm toward the left-hand guy.
His body jerked just before everything went dark.
Chapter 19
Nausea and chills racked Stefan’s body. Venom sickness. His shoulder and back—though not at the nerve junctions, which was interesting—burned as though from acid where the claws had dug into him. Trying to move, he met resistance. He forced his eyes open.
The narrow, shabby room looked familiar and wasn’t much of a surprise. The padded table was the only furniture other than the toilet in the corner. Typical ghoul breeding shed…
Mel.
Panic jolted through him. He jerked against the straps holding down his bare arms, legs, and chest, but nothing gave.
Opening his senses, he reached out to summon power, recharge, but couldn’t connect to anything around him. When Stefan turned his head, something hard bit into his neck and upper spine. He was wearing a collar, and its ensorcelled iron blocked his magic.
Bastards. Where was Mel? Had she escaped? That seemed unlikely, but he could hope.
Better that than having her here. Since ghouls couldn’t breed among themselves, they kidnapped Mundanes or mages for that purpose, forcing them to bear hybrid young, two-thirds of whom were ghouls. The others, they abandoned or ate.
The door opened. Two ghoul males walked in, one a stocky, thirtyish blond and the other slightly taller, older, and thinner with nondescript brown hair. They looked ordinary enough, but their jaundiced complexions, the muddy whites of their eyes, and the ammonia stench around them revealed what they were.
Stefan set his jaw. Neither threats nor protests would improve his situation. If he was terrified for Mel and not a little worried about his own helpless position, he couldn’t afford to let that show.
He had to do whatever would keep her as safe as possible and give his friends a chance to find them. When he and Mel didn’t show for Cinda’s memorial service, Marc would know something was wrong and alert everyone else.
The ghouls stood on either side of Stefan, arms crossed, and studied him as dispassionately as he might examine bacteria under a microscope. The blond said, “You got a liver we can use, mage. Best we’ve found yet.”
“Use for what?”
The ghoul slammed a fist down into Stefan’s gut. A choked sound escaped him as the edges of his vision went black. Bile rushed into his throat. If not for the straps holding him, the blow would’ve doubled him.
“Talk again without permission,” the ghoul said, “next one’s in your balls.”
Fucker. Breathing through his nose, fighting the pain, Stefan glared at him.
“Since the liver regenerates—yours faster than a human’s—we can use yours like a farm, harvest and regrow, harvest and regrow. And our breeders are pleased to have a new male.”
Hell if he would breed for them. He’d rather kill himself, but not until he knew Mel was safe. Or dead. Please, not dead.
The blond studied him. “Or you can work for us. You got a rep as a researcher.”
How the flaming hell did they know that?
“We can use you,” the ghoul added.
Go fuck yourself, he thought, but saying it might cost him the opportunity to learn what they planned. Stefan raised an eyebrow.
The ghouls exchanged a glance. The taller one said, “You can say yes or no.”
If he worked for them, what could he learn? But work for them, how? Remembering Nazis and experiments on prisoners, Stefan said, “No.”
The blond smiled, in the cold way a snake might smile at a mouse. “Don’t be too quick, mage. We’ve assessed your woman.”
So Mel was here. Damn. That was better than having her in some other, unknown nest but still horrible.
Stefan had never freed a female prisoner who didn’t describe the ghoul magic probing her womb and ovaries in assessment as excruciating. Despite his effort to suppress his reaction, something must’ve shown in his eyes because the ghoul’s smile widened.
“Her liver’s very promising,” the blond said.
Stefan froze.
Smiling, the ghoul continued, “We were coming for her, mage. You were an unexpected bonus.”
“Fertile womb, nice tits if a little small, and she’s very fit,” the dark-haired ghoul added. “A prime cow.”
Red flashed across Stefan’s vision. He gritted his teeth against a futile surge of fury.
The blond nodded. “That one can probably handle seven or eight rides a night.”
“Maybe even every half hour around the clock. Her master will have her breeding in no time. We’re all bidding on her.”
Rage seared Stefan’s throat. He forced his hands to stay loose, not clench on the table’s edge. The bastards were playing him, pushing him. He couldn’t let them see how much he wanted to wade into them.
The tall ghoul smirked down at him. “If she doesn’t work out as a breeder, she can contribute her liver. Sooner or later, she will anyway.”
“Still ‘no’?” his blond companion asked.
Not even to save Mel could Stefan torture innocents, nor would she want him to. If these ghouls knew anatomy, though, they didn’t need him for that. At least he could find out what they wanted. But he wouldn’t plead.
“What do you want me to do?” Maybe something that allowed access to sharp, pointed objects.
“Computer work, refining a formula.”
“What are you offering?” They’d mentioned livers and formulas. Were they going to let him see how they created the superghouls?
The taller ghoul’s lip curled. “A reprieve from breeding and having your liver harvested.”
They were prepared to do more, or they wouldn’t have mentioned Mel to him. “For the woman, too. And I see her every day in private.”
This would all be alien to her. Wherever she was, she must be half frantic with fear. Stefan at least knew what was going on.
The blond shook his head.
“What?” Stefan demanded. “You think I can break out of here while I’m wearing this collar?”
“Breeders see only their masters,” the taller one informed him.
“You breed her,” Stefan said between his teeth, “and it’s no deal. The only way I’ll believe she’s okay is if I see her and talk to her in private.”
Again, the duo exchanged a look. The blond shrugged. “Give us good stuff for a week, and you can visit her then.”
“Tomorrow, and I see her first. And we get clothes.” Ghouls kept their breeders naked for convenience, but nudity also ramped up the fear factor. Especially for a woman.
The two walked out of the room. Stefan tightened his lips against the urge to call after them. Showing weakness to ghouls made them want to play with their prey.
Two burlier, dark-haired males walked in. One held a handgun similar to Mel’s, covering Stefan while the other unstrapped him. The nearer one shoved a wad of scratchy brown cloth at him. “Get dressed,” he ordered.
Drawstring pants. Stefan tugged them on and
knotted the cord. They were cheap burlap, thin and too short but better than nothing.
“Come with us.” Flanking him, each with a tight grip on his arm, they hustled him down the corridor.
For a breeding shed, this was a big building. Was that all they did here?
From behind a door came the sound of a man’s voice begging not to be hurt again, then a woman’s laughter. Stefan’s fists clenched at his sides. He and Mel were getting the hell out of here somehow, and he’d bring back a mage army to burn this place to the ground.
* * *
Mel huddled in the corner of the thin, narrow mattress. Terror rolled through her veins like an icy flood and prickled along her neck and arms. Her belly still cramped from whatever they’d done. That probe had been energy of some kind, maybe electricity. Stefan’s energy had been warm, even enticing, but this had felt vile, stomach-turning, even before the pain.
How the hell had they done such a thing? It had to be a trick, something to scare her.
That had damn well worked, but she would hide her fear as long as she could.
Where was Stefan, anyway? What had they done with him? Seemingly out of nowhere, they’d appeared in the driveway and on the front porch.
Who the blazes were these fuckwads? They all looked like those guys in the swamp, like the perps she and Burton’s crew had been chasing, except the perps had purplish eyes, not muddy whites. Why hadn’t Stefan told her or Burton what they were up against?
These people were not normal humans. They all had the same look, the same claws as the man she’d killed in the road.
Had they used those claws on Cinda and Wiley? On Stefan?
Stefan would be okay. He had to be. Anything else was too awful to think about. Maybe he’d escaped and was looking for her.
Deep down, she knew better.
The skimpy little burlap pullover they’d given her barely covered her ass. Open at the sides except for tiny string ties, it offered little protection from the air-conditioning. Or the scrutiny of the women and one man who’d examined her so coldly while she was naked and strapped down, then left her in this room alone.
Guardian (The Protectors Series) Page 23
