Emily froze.
If that was true, if she was finally believing that she wasn’t going crazy, then that meant her last dream had been real too. The killer was in that room, and he had Reece.
He’d been all alone in the dream, and Emily wasn’t going to leave him that way. Every other time she’d seen the killer’s final act before she could stop it. This time, she’d been given a gift and she wasn’t going to waste it. If Reece was in trouble, then she was going there for him. She had no idea what help she could actually be, but if he was going down swinging, then she was going to be standing beside him. She’d take nothing less. Emily grabbed her famous kitchen knife and pepper spray, her gaze swinging rapidly around her apartment in search of something more lethal. Maybe she should have listened to Cathy when she’d suggested taking Emily out to the gun range to learn how to shoot. The idea of having a gun sitting in her apartment had freaked her out at the time, but now she was thinking her loopy friend had been the sane one all along.
Hauling on the still damp boots from earlier that night Emily slammed her front door closed and ran down the stairs. Hopefully, at this hour, it wouldn’t be too hard to find a cab. The streets were deserted when she stepped out onto the street and Emily turned in the direction of her office and started jogging. By the time she got to the convenience store at the corner, she spotted two cabs parked outside. She jumped in the one at the front and threw several notes at the driver, not stopping to look at their denominations. “El Estilo headquarters,” she all but shouted at the driver. He raised an eyebrow and shot her an amused grin, but said nothing as he pulled away from the curb. Emily sat back in her seat, but as the driver continued at the same slow speed through the clear streets, her fingers started tapping against her thigh again. If he didn’t start driving faster, she was going to throw him out the door and take over the wheel herself. “I’ll pay double the fare if you get me there in five minutes.”
That did it. The cabbie’s foot met the gas pedal, and the force threw Emily back against the seat. She smiled grimly at the predictability of his response. It seemed money could get you just about anywhere in life.
Life.
Hopefully, Reece still had his. The sickening feeling in her stomach grew again, and she could almost taste it—death—on her tongue. It was as if the very air she was breathing was tainted by it. Reece had to be OK. There was no other option. Emily had only just found him, and she wasn’t done loving him yet. Her resolve sharpened and broke through her fear. There was no way she was giving him up so easily.
The cab arrived outside her office building and pulled up to the curb with a screech. Emily considered asking him to wait but then reconsidered. Just in case, the man was watching, she didn’t want to give him any further clues she was around. She threw a few more bills at the driver and stepped out into the cold night. “Ain’t nobody working here at this hour,” the driver said, shooting her a suspicious look.
Emily glared at him in return. “Looks like I am,” she said before slamming the door. She heard to engine idle and then kick into gear again and the cab pulled away as she cautiously stepped her way around to the back of the building. Whatever was waiting for her there, she was ready.
Reece opened his eyes and squinted at the table lying across from him. The room looked like it was at the wrong angle, and the edges of his vision were blurred out. What the hell had happened, and why was he lying on the floor? A foot connected with his chest and the world came into sudden sharp focus. Son of a bitch! Reece’s hands instinctively came up to protect his head as he drew one leg up under him to take his body weight. How long had he been out? He pushed himself up on shaking arms, but before he could pull himself up to standing another kick to the ribs sent him sprawling.
If he didn’t get up off this floor, he was a dead man.
The man’s foot came at Reece again, but this time, he was ready. He grabbed the man’s ankle and then placed his hands on either side of the man’s knee. Reece pushed forward as hard as he could, using all his weight to send the man sprawling to the ground. His head made a dense thud as it knocked against the hard concrete floor. Right, it was time to get the fuck up.
Across the room, the man shook his head and then reached behind him, fingers stretching to grab something secured to the back of his leg. Reece didn’t wait to find out what it was. Taking full advantage of the now leveled playing field, he pushed up again, this time getting both legs positioned to hold his weight and one arm protecting his head. God only knew what the fucker would try next.
Ears still ringing slightly, Reece looked up only to see the man also standing in front of him, his mouth twisted in a leering grin.
“You disappoint me, Agent Knight. Is that all you have?”
Reece forced his eyes to focus on the man in front of him. He was standing a few feet away, hand still gripping his thigh. Had he been injured when Reece had brought him to the ground? He quickly ran through his own mental check; the lack of weight at his hip and ankle told him both his duty weapon and backup were gone, but he couldn’t feel any serious injuries. His ribs ached from the man’s kicks, but his vest had protected them from any serious damage. He didn’t need a cracked rib on top of what he was already dealing with.
Reece locked eyes with the man in front of him. Did he have Reece’s gun tucked somewhere? The way he moved, how he stood, he didn’t seem trained. If he moved quickly, Reece could lock him down before the man had a chance to pull his gun if he had it. Reece stepped forward, but even as he moved the man darted back, swinging his arm out from behind him. Reece recovered quickly and stepped out of the way, blocking another attempt. As the man’s arm swung past him again, Reece caught sight of what was in the man’s hand. It was a knife, but not a folding tactical blade like many operatives carried. No, this was different. Outside clouds blew across the sky and the room lightened. The man adjusted his hold on the knife, and Reece saw the intricate carving on the handle.
Oh, fuck.
It was that knife. The one from Emily’s dreams, and now it was here right in front of him. She had been right, the killer had been right under his nose the entire time. The man moved again. Reece moved to disarm him, but his second of hesitation from when he recognized the knife was too much. Reece raised his arm to block the oncoming attack, and the knife slid over his forearm. It sliced through his shirt and traced a line of fire along his arm. Reece made a grab for the man’s arm but failed as the man dodged out of his way. The man’s eyes narrowed, cluing Reece in. He was getting pissed, and playtime was over.
The man lunged again, this time going for Reece’s gut. Reece deflected the blow and then grabbed onto the man’s arm, capturing it and cursing when he felt fire lick his arm again as he flexed the muscles to restrain and disarm the man. His grip loosened and it was all over. The man’s elbow connected with the side of Reece’s head, bringing back the blurred vision and ringing ears. As Reece’s arms fell away, the pain in his arm and head was eclipsed by a deep pressure in his thigh. Warmth trickled down his leg, followed swiftly by a sharp burst of pain. Reece listed to the side and his leg collapsed underneath him. The pain blinded him for a short moment, just long enough for the man to knock him back to the ground. The man bent forward, pulling the blade from Reece’s thigh. Another burst of sharp heat pulsed through him. Reece forced his eyes to stay open, and as the man leaned forward the dim light filtering in from outside caught his face. A flash of recognition coursed through Reece. No, this wasn’t just from Emily’s dreams anymore. Reece knew his face. He had been there that day, the day he’d gone to Emily’s office after Lily’s body had been found. He’d been standing just across from the others on Emily’s floor, dressed in a uniform. He stared at the man, the memory washing over him. The man had worn a name tag—Juan.
Fuck! Why hadn’t he recognized him before? Juan still stood over Reece, holding the knife by his side. A growl erupted from deep within Reece as he grabbed at Juan’s arm, but his leg gave way easily beneath him and
Juan stepped to the side.
“Now now, Special Agent. You will pay for defiling the blade with your blood, but I’m not quite done with you yet. I will deal with you, but first I need your pretty little girlfriend.”
Red filtered Reece’s vision. He had to end this. He pushed to his feet, gripping a hand around his thigh. His leg felt hot and sticky, and he swayed as his got to his feet.
“Is that all you’ve got? I was expecting more.”
“If you touch her I will kill you. Slowly.” Reece caught sight of his guns, lying across the room on the altar. If Juan was just going to stand around taunting him all night, Reece was going to get a move on. He edged toward the altar, stumbling painfully when he put his weight on his right leg.
“Yes, yes,” Juan jeered. “Keep reaching for it. Just a little further and you can put a bullet in my brain.”
Reece took another step, keeping his back facing the wall. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and take the knife, but without being able to support his weight he’d lose that fight. He took another step, imagining his hands wrapped around Juan’s throat, squeezing the life out of him.
Just a few more steps.
As much as his mind was made up, his leg would not cooperate and as Reece shuffled another step forward Juan darted to stand between him and his gun.
“Now this is just too easy,” Juan laughed, pushing Reece to the ground again. Reece’s leg took the bulk of the impact from the hard floor and his vision wavered. He heard a loud groan echo through the room.
Get up. You have to get up.
When he opened his eyes again, he was staring down the barrel of his own gun.
“You’ve caused me enough problems, Reece Knight. Hiding her away from me. She’ll come for you, you know she will. And once I have her I will kill you.”
Another blow knocked Reece’s head against the floor. Before he could recover Juan pulled his hands together and secured them at Reece’s back, then pulled Reece to his feet and dragged him over to the corner of the room. Juan dropped him on the floor and kicked him in the ribs again for good measure. The fact that Juan hadn’t killed him straight up brought Reece little comfort. In the space of the past few minutes, the man had gone from almost disinterested, calm interaction to a violent personal vendetta. He was losing it, and if help weren't already on the way, it was unlikely Reece was going to survive past the next few minutes. Reece closed his eyes briefly, praying that Gabi had gotten his message and that Emily stayed the fuck away. If he could do one thing right now, he could refuse to give Juan what he wanted. Reece looked up at Emily’s smiling portrait, placed in the center of the room. Her eyes seemed to plead with him to get up, to keep fighting. Reece grit his teeth and ignoring the burst of pain he swung his legs out in front of him and used his hands behind him to push up on the wall.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Juan stepped in front of Reece and jammed a finger into his bleeding thigh. Reece locked his jaw, refusing to give Juan the satisfaction, but he could feel the color leech from his face.
“Get your fucking hands off me.”
Juan did just that, but not before bringing the handle of his knife down against Reece’s already throbbing temple. As the darkness swept in once more, the last thing Reece saw was Juan’s triumphant face.
27
Emily slipped through the back door of her office building. She moved as quietly as she could, but her need to make sure Reece was alive was greater than her desire to stay completely hidden. She was edging her way around the basement door when a loud bang echoed down the stairwell. Her heart beat at breakneck speed, echoing in her ears so loudly that she was sure it would give her away. Standing at the threshold of the hallway entrance she pushed herself further into the wall and closed her eyes, forcing herself to take a deep breath, then another, until her hands stopped trembling and she could put one foot in front of the other again. She took a single step forward and peered down the hallway. Her nose wrinkled, the scent of incense was far stronger than she remembered it being earlier that afternoon and the silence was just a little more deafening.
Seeing no one in the hallway she took another step forward, forcing her feet back toward the door. God only knew what awaited her on the other side, but if there was any chance at all Reece was there she had to go. Her instincts screamed at her to turn around, but she kept walking. One step at a time, that’s all it would take to reach him. To save the man she loved. Emily had no illusions as to her own safety. This man, this killer, wanted her, he’d made that clear. Perhaps the dreams were telling Emily her fate all along. Whatever, she was past trying to avoid it herself, she’d already passed that earlier today, but she’d be damned if she was going to drag Reece along with her. Emily stopped just outside the door, the red glow now gone. She listened intently but heard nothing but her own fear screaming from inside her head. Palming her knife, Emily took a final deep breath and stepped inside.
The room was darker now, the moon having slipped higher in the sky, but it appeared empty. There was no sign of her personal grim reaper. She took a further step into the room when a low moan coming from the corner of the room drew her attention. Whoever it was, they sounded like they were in pain. Emily froze, remembering the killer’s modus operandi in the alley. Was this all a trap again? Another sound met her ears, louder this time, and intimately familiar. Emily flew across the room and nearly tripped over the body lying in the corner. She fell to her knees and could almost feel the life slip from her own body when she found Reece lying bound and bloodied on the floor. Nothing else in the world mattered as she moved to his side.
“No!” she whispered forcefully, pressing her hand to a wound on his thigh that was seeping blood. “What did he do to you?” Reece shifted on the floor and another slash through his shirt caught Emily’s eye. Oh god, that was bloody too, his shirt stained with red and stuck to his skin. She tried to push his sleeve up to check the wound, her hands darting frantically between his arm and his injured leg. Reece nudged at her with his shoulder, pushing her hands away.
“Emily, get out of here! Go now, before he comes back.”
No. God himself couldn’t move her from this spot.
“Shhhh,” she hushed him. Emily followed his arm around his body and found the bonds holding him tight. Thank god she had a knife of her own. Touching Reece on his shoulder she gently pushed him forward, wincing as he clenched his jaw tight at the movement. She had to get them out of there. She slid her knife in between his wrist and the flexible plastic cuff, made sure the blade was facing upwards and pulled. The cuff gave way and Reece’s hand fell to the floor. Before she could repeat the process, Reece already had his hands in front of him and was ripping the dangling hard plastic from his other arm. Reece took her knife and pierced the edge of his shirt, and then ripped off a piece at the bottom. He tore a long strip and started to bandage his thigh. Emily tried to help, but then she made the mistake of looking up at the room’s walls. When she had been there before, there had been pictures of other women covering their surface. Some she had recognized, while others remained unnamed, but she was sure they were all his victims. Now, they were gone and littering the walls and the many altars were photographs of her. The same image repeated with every shot, her cheery grin morphing into almost a leer as her eyes met it over and over again.
“What the fuck?” Emily muttered. Reece shifted beside her, and she wrapped her arm around his waist to help him gain his footing. Reece struggled to his feet. His arm didn’t seem to be bleeding much anymore, but she had no idea how serious the injury to his leg was. It was time for them to both get the hell out of there. Deranged murderer guy could come at her again in her dreams when Reece wasn’t in danger of dying, and besides the image of her own face repeating over and over again was seriously creeping her out.
“Drop me, Emily, and get the hell out of here,” Reece huffed in her ear. She could hear the effort behind his words. “Go, or he’s going to kill us both.”
; She turned toward the door, and a shadow filled it. A laugh came from the blackness. The voice still sounded familiar, but just like in her dreams she couldn’t place it.
“Stay the hell away from us!”
The man laughed again, a deep chuckle. It was neither melodious nor even remotely sexy. Instead, it reminded her of every horror movie she’d ever seen and why she hated them to begin with.
“How nice! The knight in shining armor being rescued by the damsel in distress. Isn’t life poetic?”
Before Emily could answer the man moved swiftly across the room and backhanded her across the face. The force of the hit rattled her to her core and she fell backward, losing her hold on Reece and she fell backward. Reece managed to stay upright, bracing himself heavily with his hands on his thighs, but his face had turned a startling shade of white when his hands gripped his thighs and he stopped moving. The man stalked toward her and his face came into focus. Juan! Oh my god, that asshole! He’d been right in front of her eyes the entire time, quiet and watching. No one thought to question why the office mail worker was on their floor multiple times a day. The mail… god, that would explain the flowers and the texts. He’d have access to everything he needed to stalk and torture her right at his fingertips, and the perfect excuse to be there. He could have denied knowledge of any delivery that found its way to her desk, and no one would have questioned him.
Juan stepped forward again, pushing Reece as he passed. Reece lost his support and groaned in pain as his knees hit the floor. Juan stepped toward her again.
“Sweet, sweet Emily,” he cooed, taking the silver blade from its sheath strapped to his leg. Her eyes widened as she saw it up close and personal for the second time outside of her dreams. This was it. There was no mistaking the blade that took the lives of so many women when it was less than a foot from her face. “We’ve waited a long time for this, but finally, it’s time.”
Emily (Dreamcatchers Romantic Suspense Series Book 1) Page 18
