by Avery Duncan
“I’m. . .sorry?” he tried.
“Well, it’s too late now! If you had answered your phone sooner, this could have been avoided,” she chastised, sounding much like the hyper chipmunk that she looked like.
“What could have been avoided?” he asked, eyes crossing.
“Your “beta” as you like to call the wormy bastard, came in here saying that you had faxed him estate papers. I’m guessing he thought that I wouldn’t bother to read them, but I did,” she said, catching her breath.
Raffaele froze. “Do you still have the papers.”
“Yes, I have them locked up in your safe right now because I wanted to double check. He came back here spouting that he needed them now and I said that that the printer broke and that the fax order was stuck till it got fixed,” she explained, voice affronted.
“I want you to email me photocopies of them to my private email. If he comes in again asking for the documents and mentions anymore that he sent, contact me immediately and draw call my lawyer. I also want you to start making statements.”
Silence.
“You’re really serious, aren’t you,” she said, then mumbled under her breath. He heard the word “ass” and several other things that he felt he shouldn’t have heard. Finally, she said on an aggravated sigh, “You make me do so much work, I swear I should be getting a raise!”
“Hannah, you have probably the highest paying job you could ever get. Don’t push it.”
A sigh. “Fine, I’ll make sure to warn my assistant to let me know if he comes in again and I’m taking copies of the documents right now.”
“Alright, talk to you tomorrow.” He ended the call, trying not to punch something.
He should have figured that his beta would try something while he was away. Of course, he had been too focused on his uncle at the time to make any restrictions on the man, and he was really regretting it now. Raff hadn’t even bothered to ask what the property papers were for; he already knew.
From the beginning, everything about Calvin had been nagging at him. As soon as he had been turned into the pacchetto leader, he had wanted to change his beta. He couldn’t share knowledge for fear that his feeling of unrest would be correct, he could barely place simple duties to the man.
Instead, he had to raise the pay of one of the most annoying, commanding secretaries he had ever had and make her do all of the things that Calvin should have been trusted to do. Neither of them had minded, in the end they had both found that the system they had started worked out very well.
Calvin, of course, hated the woman. She had threatened to quit, once again, when he had come into the office, spewing rumors and lies about the woman, hoping that the taint to her image would get her fired with him up in the status again.
The end result of the accident had been with Calvin limping to the hospital. No one liked him, no one never had. And the fact that he had been limping away, bloody and bruised, had only made his people like Raffaele more.
The only reason that the bastard was anywhere near his board and pacchetto was because his father had made a secret contract for more life. The contract had been found out when he had been killed, and Raff had been put up for pacchetto leader.
He forced the thoughts of his families betrayal out of his mind. There was no use in getting angry over something that he couldn’t help. He sat down heavily in the leather couch, listening to the creaks and grabbing the remote.
As soon as the TV was on and CSI was playing, he put his head down and promptly passed out.
Chapter 15
He held the girl down, annoyed at the struggling and the faint whimpers that escaped through the gag. Her blue eyes held a desperation to get free and he smirked with the knowledge that he wouldn’t tell her that that wasn’t going to happen.
Claws dug into his skin, causing him to grimace faintly. The jacket that he had on was thick enough that her nails barely pricked him. He was grateful that he had remembered to bring the collar this time, the powers it held causing her shift to prolong long enough till she died.
“Please,” he heard distantly, coming back to the present. The muffled plead was audible, which he found. . .aggravating. If anyone should hear her, he would be screwed and her death would be quick—not painful and slow as he normally intended.
Of course, it had to be slow in order for her energy to travel properly into his domain. If it went to fast, it would stray from the thread and he would have wasted a body worth use.
The young woman's legs kicked out, and he brought his fist up, preparing to slap her.
“Don’t worry, whore. Soon you won’t feel this pain, but another. One so great that you will wish you had my dagger digging deep into your heart to end your useless life,” he sneered quietly in her ear, flipping her onto her stomach and clasping her hands behind her back, straddling her to keep her still.
“No!” she screamed, the sound faint. She shook with more vigor, trying to escape his painful hold.
His fingers threaded into her hair, wrenching her head back as he held her body down close to the ground. He heard a faint creak, and smiled down at her.
“Feel free to scream all you want, the sound is pleasing to the ears and no one will hear it anyways,” he murmured, releasing her with one hand and reaching into his back pocket. He pulled out a small lighter and grabbed onto a piece of her hair, holding the died blackness between his fingers gently.
He flicked the thing on, revealing in the shadows that danced around them. Blue orbs of fear latched onto his from the corner of her eye, and while it wasn’t that big of a flame at all, she knew what was going to happen and had obviously heard about him.
He grinned, pleased. “You know, don’t you?” he asked, sickly sweet, rubbing the burnt piece of hair. “How much of this will hurt, how much of it you’ll cry through. What you don’t know is what will happen after. . . But you will. Soon.”
The rope that sat beside him was ready for use, so he set to tying her from one of the rafters from above him. Airy as it might seem, the construction site was only two blocks from where he really wanted to be and perfect for tonight's ritual.
Above him, the full-moon loomed eerie, clouds hardly covering the giant ball of light that he was coming to detest. The aura of the night was peaceful, almost. . .sedate as he threw the end of the rope after the rafter and securing it tightly.
Almost like a fairy-tail, he thought with a snort.
Beside the steel rod there was a pile of everything that he would be using on the girl. A can of gas, matches, black charcoal mixed with the blood of his last victim, and lavender leaves. While some thought that lavender was calming, there was also an underside to them.
They eased the soul into the underworld with quick precision.
A couple more minutes and the girl was tied securely from the rafter, black hair brushing the ground. He made a ring around her with the gas that he had brought, putting five petals on four sides of the circle.
When he went for the charcoal, her body wiggled in mid-air, knowing that the ritual was finally about to start.
He drew the dark red charcoal up the middle of her face, tore her shirt and pants off with the pocket night in his jeans, and finished the line at her feet, drawing an extra “X” at the center of her stomach.
The lighter ignited.
And the screeches began.
Chapter 16
The call Mary got when she was dressed and dried for the day chilled her. She was in the middle of doing her hair and make-up with hard boiled eggs on the stove when Romero called. At the same time, her brother and then her father called.
She answered Romero’s first, knowing that her family was just going to annoy her and try and involve themselves in her life. Mary wanted to go with her brother, the threat to her life and the dream last night had made it clear that she was not safe at all.
But. . . she couldn’t.
If someone was after her, she was not going to endanger her family by staying with them.
As much as she might wish she could lean on someone, she wasn’t going to let herself trust anything right now.
The separation was soon to be out in public, and the threat of the killer was still out there, haunting her. She had decided that the nightmare last night had been because of stress, and had no significant meaning.
Of course, though, she didn’t believe it.
Mary had always thought of Kevin as dark-haired and pale skinned. What she had seen though, had been disturbing. The man, or creature, had been pure white. His skin, his eyes, his hair, his clothing. All of it had been white, just as the place that he brought her to in her dreams was also.
Her skin chilled when she heard Romero on the other end. “I want you to come down here for a bit,” he told her. “The site is about two blocks down from yours, on Paxton. You know that construction site?”
She swallowed, nodding even though he couldn’t see. “Yeah, I know.” She walked to the kitchen slowly, in a daze. The bowl that she now held felt cold in her fingers.
“I want you to meet us all down there so that you can see this,” he said, his voice hard because of the events.
“When?” she asked, putting her hair in a ponytail with the phone between her shoulder and ear.
“Can you be there in five minutes or less? We want to get ths cleaned up and closed off before people start to notice and crowd.”
“I. . . Sure, yeah I’ll be there. See you in a bit,” she choked out, ending the call before he could get a word in.
For a moment, she felt and heard nothing but silence. It hummed through her, making it as if she were deaf.
Crash.
She screamed, jumping back from the bowl that she had dropped. Her stomach heaved at the site of a cut on her hand, her hands starting to shake worse than they had before.
Mary sat down slowly beside the broken glass, head between her hands, struggling to breathe. Figures that he would get so close to her, she thought in bitter despair. Figures that she was only now just realizing how close to death she was.
Once she stopped shaking enough to know that she would be able to stand properly, she slowly made her way to the bathroom, fear chilling her. The ridiculous thoughts running through her head made her feel silly, yet at the same time paranoid.
Mary was out the door in two minutes, a wrap around her hand and the mess left there for later. Instead of driving as she normally would, she walked.
Was it bad of her to think that he would be hiding in the backseat of her car, or that he had rigged it with a bomb? Yeah, it was, but she couldn’t help it when the trembling in her hands came back at just the thought of being in anything big and mess-up-able.
The morning was bright, green and clean. Everything that a beautiful day should be—except, this wasn’t beautiful, was it? The death of another woman, the missing life that everyone had been helpless to prevent.
A black, window-tinted car was just about to pass her when it stopped.
And parked.
And then the door open.
A screech building up in her throat, she stared wide eyed as a man dressed in all black stepped out. I’m going to die, he’s going to kill me and I’m going to die and so are my plants, oh my god, I’m going to die. . .
The sun behind the head prevented her from seeing who it actually was, and her eyes watered at the fear she was starting to experience. Mary started to back away, bones stiff, when a voice stopped her.
“Ms. Waters?”
There was mild confusion in the mans voice. Her breath rushed out of her lungs as she realized that it wasn’t the killer and that it was someone she must know. The voice sounded familiar enough, she convinced herself, pushing her paranoia aside.
“Ms. Waters, are you alright?” The body stepped out of the sun and into the shade, revealing the devilish face of Jaques.
The fear drained out of her as quickly as it had come.
“Mr. Jaques?” she asked, squinting. She prayed that he didn’t notice the quiver to her voice.
“I saw you walking and wondered what happened. You shouldn’t be out so openly right now, Ms. Waters,” he admonished, the underlying of irritation in his voice.
“I didn’t. . .feel like driving.” How would she explain that she was a paranoid freak to him? That’s right, she wouldn’t.
“Get in the car,” he sighed, opening the passenger side door for her.
She suddenly realized how awkward this would look to someone on the outside. A lone woman, walking, and suddenly a man drives up and forces her into a car.
Mary shook her head. “I’m fine, almost there, anyways.”
“Are you going to the scene?” he asked, raising a dark brow at her. This far away, she could barely see the amazingness of his eyes. She found that. . . she didn’t like that.
“Well, yes. . .” she said, fidgeting with her hands.
“Then get into the car, that’s where I’m headed too.” His voice said “no arguments and listen to Mr. Macho-man”.
She swallowed then stepped off of the side walk and into the vicinity of the car—which just happened to be close enough that she could feel the heat of him. Inspite of the cool autumn air, she shivered.
“You really don’t have to do—” she started.
“Just get in the car, Ms. Waters. We were supposed to be there five minutes ago,” he let her know, tapping his wrist. Clearly, the man had a thing for staying on time.
Sighing under her breath at the look on the mans face, she climbed into the car and he shut the door behind him. Her eyes followed him through the window, hands absently trailing over the smooth leather.
He walked with stride, with purpose. An underlying aura of arrogance that suited him completely.
The door openeda nd he put the car in drive, the silence deafening besides the soft purr of the engine.
“So what do you do?” she asked, and could have slapped herself.
“What do I do?” He gave her a side glance.
“Yeah. . . You have. . . a nice car,” she said lamely, wishing she could bury her head in some sand.
Instead of answering, his brows lowered and he looked her over. “Have a rough night?”
She shrugged. It wasn’t like she was going to mention her screaming escapade last night and her chicken call to her brother. “It was fine.”
His eye brows raised slowly, not believing one word. “Alright,” he said, and then proceeded to park and get out. She was just gathering herself and about to open the door when he opened it for her, face blank besides a small twitch to his lips.
She ducked her head and fought a blush as he closed the door.
“Mary! Get over here, and bring Jacques with you,” Romero shouted to her, several yards away, standing on the inside of the yellow tape.
Knowing that he would follow her anyways, she made her way over to the dark man, putting aside the events of the morning and her unwanted frazzled emotions.
The rays reflected off of the new steel around them, part of the building done, construction workers and their advisers milling about, papers being signed on the spot. It would have been a normal day—it should have been one. Instead, it. . .wasn’t. At all.
Mary sighed, sending up a brief prayer for patience and calmness.
“Same MO?” she asked, coming up behind Romero.
He turned to face her. “Pretty much, just some different signs.”
“How was she found?” Jaques asked, coming up behind them. Mary tried to stop the shiver at how close he felt to her back.
“Burnt to ashes, nothing but charred muscle. Even her parents wouldn’t recognize her in this state. From the rope and the burnt line around the rafter, we think she was upside down again—just like the first one,” he said to himself, walking around the scene slowly.
The ground was exactly how it had looked in the first picture, the fire circle leaving ashs and burnt ground in its place.
Mary swallowed deeply, wishing Kevin or her brother were there. She frowned. �
�Where’s Ulrich?” she asked, glancing around for him.
“He said he was going to be a little late, had to talk to the security people about your house for a bit,” Romero said, giving her a disappointing look. “Why couldn’t you have just stayed with him?”
Behind her, she heard a growl. “You didn’t stay with him? Do you know how dangerous that is?” Jacques snarled, hands clenching at his sides.
Mary would have sighed, shrugged, rolled her eyes, or something else, but the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice stopped her. “You act like you know something about the situation, Jacques,” she commented quietly, considering.
“I’ve been here no less than a week and I know more about you and this whole town than you ever could. Now, why didn’t you stay with him?” he asked, trying to calm himself.
“I’m not going to hide behind my family. I also won’t be putting them in danger,” she reinforced, crossing her arms.
“So your going to get cameras to protect you?” he asked incredulously.
“Well. . .”
“Darlin’, cameras can’t hit back,” he growled low, the southern accent that vibrated between them making the hair on the back of her neck rise. Her breasts felt tighter, and she was too sure it wasn’t because of the heat.
“I can though,” she retorted, narrowing her eyes on him.
“Will it make a difference? You may be powerful, but you are still a woman,” he said, berating her.
Romero’s gasp joined hers, and then he started laughing.
“Jacques, you have a death wish!” he hooted, holding his stomach.
Mary rounded on her brother’s long-time friend. “And you’ll be next, after I finish with him,” she threatened, jabbing a finger at Jacques.
“The day you beat me is the day I kiss your ass, Ms. Waters,” he said in her ear, the smirk in his voice annoying her.
She got in his face, forgetting about who she was and the people around them. “The day I let you kiss my ass is the day I drop dead,” she hissed, eyes flashing.
