The Rose Ransom (Girls Wearing Black: Book Three)

by Baum, Spencer

  “How do you think it feels, you monster!” Jill shrieked.

  Bernadette turned to Jill and yelled, “I will deal with you in a minute!”

  “Ms. Paiz, if I may,” Walter said. “What’s this all about?”

  “We in the clan suspect Jill Wentworth of treason,” Bernadette snapped. “In just a moment, I will question her. Pray that I like the answers.”

  “You said you were coming here to discuss business,” Walter whined.

  “That’s true. Clan business. Oh, did you think I wanted to talk about your silly software company? Goodness. I have no interest in that sort of nonsense. No, Walter, I am here to get to the bottom of some ugly actions involving a student from Thorndike.”

  “I assure you we all are innocent in this house,” Walter said.

  “And if that’s the case, you have nothing to worry about. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to our mutual friend, Zack.”

  Bernadette ran her fingers through Zack’s hair, briefly pushing his bangs out of his face.

  “He’s a cute one, that’s for sure,” she said. “His eyes are pretty stunning—but this whole bohemian artist thing? I hate to tell you Zack, but I think Jill is using you in a bit of teenage rebellion. You’re not really her type. She’s a girl of stature and privilege. Are you ready to forget her?”

  “I’m ready,” Zack said.

  “No,” Jill whimpered. “Please don’t do this.”

  Bernadette raised her hand high in the air and snapped her fingers.

  The change in Zack was instant. He was like a dog following a command. His head tilted down, his arms fell to his sides, his shoulders slumped, and he walked away, going straight out the front door. A few seconds later, Jill heard the Corvair start up and pull away.

  Zack was gone.

  “Bernadette…er…Ms. Paiz,” Walter began.

  “Sit down and shut up,” Bernadette commanded. Walter raced to the nearest chair and planted his butt in it. Bernadette looked him in the eyes and said, “I’m going to question your daughter now. You’re not going to hear a word of our conversation, even though you are right here with us. Do you understand?”

  “I understand,” Walter said.

  “Good. Jill, let’s make this easy. Tell me why I’m here.”

  Jill was staring at the ruby on Bernadette’s chest, wondering if there was any scenario where she got out of this alive. She decided her best chance was to try and stall the inevitable. If she could keep her wits about her, and stay alive long enough, maybe the SOS signal now broadcasting from her phone would bring her a savior.

  “I have no idea why you’re here, Ms. Paiz. I swear I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “You are friends with Nicky Bloom, are you not?”

  Jill waited a few seconds before saying, “Yes.”

  “Tell me what you know about Nicky Bloom.”

  “What I know about Nicky Bloom? Well, I’ve only known her for a few weeks.”

  “Yes. You’ve only known her a few weeks, but from what I hear, you are her most important supporter. Why is that?”

  She was still staring at the ruby in Bernadette’s necklace, still hoping for a miracle, still stalling for time.

  “Two words,” she said. “Kim Renwick.”

  Bernadette nodded her head, and Jill wondered if this was it. Had she convinced her? Was the interrogation over?

  Before she even knew what was happening, Bernadette’s face was inches away from her own and their eyes were locked together. It was as if the room had contracted and Jill had no choice but to be right in front of her, looking into her eyes, letting her see….

  No. Don’t let her see. This is how they do it. This is how it ends.

  But she couldn’t stop it. Even as she told herself to look away, to fight, she felt her own mind rebelling against her. Bernadette was in control.

  “There is something you aren’t telling me,” Bernadette said. “There is something I’d really like to know about Nicky Bloom and you’re choosing to leave it out. Tell it to me, Jill.”

  Chatter broke out in Jill’s brain. Her own voice, yammering away in her mind with everything Bernadette wanted to hear.

  She’s in the Network. I am too. I hacked the admissions database to put her here. We want to win the Coronation contest. We built a mansion so when Sergio comes to change Nicky into a vampire we can kill him.

  It was as if time had come to a stop while this voice spun in her head, preparing the words that Jill was destined to spill for Bernadette.

  Everything went wrong. Melissa Mayhew found us out. She came to the mansion. She killed everyone there. I saw the footage from the security cameras.

  The realization was slow to come to Jill, but eventually it did. This voice was talking in her mind, but it was not coming out of her mouth. It wanted to be spoken aloud, but it hadn’t found its way out of Jill’s head. Why was that?

  Then Renata showed up and killed Melissa. We don’t know what the hell is going on. I can’t get hold of Nicky. I’m worried she and Ryan are in trouble. The mission is over. Everyone has fled. The only reason I’m still here is because of my mother.

  The voice was trapped in her mind. Bernadette’s eyes were begging it to come out, but it wasn’t going.

  Melissa Mayhew programmed my mother to be an obedient wife. I want to end the programming and spring her loose. I want to take her with me.

  The voice couldn’t break out because Bernadette didn’t have complete control. As far in as the vampire reached with her eyes, she wasn’t deep enough to violate the law of the land.

  I choose to do what’s right.

  The law of the land, written deep inside the fortress. The hypnosis session with Gordon. It was protecting her. Her will to do the right thing was stronger than Bernadette’s attempt to make her talk.

  She was beating her. She could do this.

  When she opened her mouth to speak, the words that came out were so confident, so fluent, they surprised even her.

  “I am part of a secret consortium whose purpose is to ensure Kim Renwick does not become the immortal from our class.”

  “Really?” Bernadette said. “Tell me more, please.”

  Jill wished Nicky was here to see her. Backed against the sharpest of corners, with everything at stake, Jill delivered the performance of her life.

  “We formed the consortium three years ago,” she began, and then she was off, reciting the cover story the Network had created for her. All the details Gia had made her memorize, all the phony history about Nicky Bloom, the consortium, the plan—it came gushing out with so much rhythm and fluency Jill almost believed her own lies. Meanwhile, the voice in her mind that wanted to tell the truth was circling around, growing more and more quiet, like water going down the drain.

  When she was done speaking, Bernadette backed away. She looked satisfied with what Jill had told her.

  “That is quite a story,” Bernadette said. “And that’s all you have to tell me, is it?”

  Jill felt in complete control as she answered.

  “That’s all I have to say about Nicky Bloom.”

  Bernadette walked over to Walter, who was sitting perfectly still in his chair. She lowered her hand so it was right in front of his face, and snapped her fingers. He jumped, as if waking from sleep.

  “Good news, Walt,” she said. “Turns out your daughter is innocent, just like you thought.”

  “Well, yes...I mean, may I ask, if you don’t mind. Innocent of what? What’s happening that brought you here?”

  Bernadette smiled.

  “Nothing that concerns you now that I know Jill isn’t involved,” she said. “Stand up, please. I have something I need to say to the both of you.”

  Walter struggled to stand. He had been sitting so still his legs weren’t quite working yet.

  “Eyes on me, please. Both of you. This will be quick and painless.”

  Jill looked at Bernadette, wondering what was left.

  “Neit
her of you will remember my visit or anything about this night,” Bernadette said. “Do you understand?”

  The voice in Jill’s head wanted to say yes, but it was Jill’s choice whether or not her mouth said the word.

  “Yes,” she and Walter spoke at once.

  The word meant nothing to Jill. The memory was secure. Bernadette had no power over her.

  “Good night,” Bernadette said. “I’ll see myself out.”

  Chapter 12

  The mountain behind Falkon Dillinger’s estate housed an abandoned gold mine. Long boarded off and condemned by the humans who built it, the mine was the perfect playground for a vampire, with endless tunnels of darkness, long shafts leading to nowhere, and surprises that continued to turn up a century after Falkon first discovered the place.

  Not only was the mine a great place to get away from the noise and confusion of modern life, it was also an ideal hiding spot for Falkon’s many treasures, including an astounding prize he had recently collected in America.

  On this night, as Falkon entered the mine, he had an eighteen-year-old boy at his side. The boy, Michael, was a handsome lad, with a mind that was easy to control, and blood that smelled sweet.

  They were only a few steps into the mine when Falkon’s phone rang.

  “Oh, listen to that, Michael,” he said. “The world wishes to grab hold of us before we disappear into the depths.”

  He held up the phone so Michael could see it.

  “Renata Sullivan,” Michael said, reading the name on the screen.

  “Yes, Renata Sullivan, our partner and financier on this journey, eager to learn more about that girl you picked up at the airport. Do you think we should answer it Michael?”

  “You should do whatever pleases you, Master.”

  “And I will. But what pleases me? I certainly don’t want to talk to Renata. You and I were about to go see our prisoner, which is a far more enjoyable use of my time. Alas, Renata is important too. We need money and she has a knack for providing it.”

  “How many times will the phone ring before it stops?” Michael said.

  “Oh, I don’t know. They change these things so fast. Seems like it was only a few years ago that phones could ring and ring and ring until you answered them. Now it’s a race to see whose patience runs out first. I suppose we’ll talk to her.” He pressed the answer button. “Good evening, Renata.”

  “I found your precious research file.”

  “What wonderful news. Where was it?”

  “In a locked drawer in a locked room in a locked building of this god-forsaken place.”

  Falkon laughed. “I always hated that farm your family kept in Florida. It isn’t right. We are meant to hunt, not have our meat delivered to our doorsteps.”

  “I don’t even want to talk about it. I just want to get out of here. The things I’ve had to do in the past twenty-four hours…”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse. Dominic sabotaged the whole operation as a parting gift to the world. I’ve had to reprogram hundreds of slaves just to get this place up and running again. Deliveries weren’t going out, chores weren’t being done—the whole place was ready to come unhinged, and unfortunately, we need the Farm up and running for a little while longer.”

  “How much longer?” Falkon asked. “When can we get more cash?”

  “I can get us a million or so in the next week, and a much larger amount in three months.”

  Falkon sighed. Money was such hassle, and so utterly confusing to him these days. It used to be when a vampire needed money he killed a rich man and took his gold. Now it was much more difficult. Central banks and hedge funds and digital transfers and giant bureaucracies overseeing all of it.

  He grunted in frustration. Talk of money put him in a sour mood.

  “Let’s speak about the girl for a minute,” Renata said. “Do you have her?”

  “I have everyone who was on the plane,” Falkon said. “They are yours to do with as you wish.”

  “Good. I’m getting on a plane right now. You haven’t looked in her mind yet, have you?”

  “No. We agreed that you would look first.”

  “Was the Jenson boy with her?”

  “There were several people on the plane. We took them all. I have no idea who they are. That is for you to sort out. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a chore to complete before you arrive.”

  “You’re going to feed her, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”

  “Let her die, Falkon.”

  “I will, eventually.”

  “Let her die now. It makes me nervous that she’s just sitting down there in that hidey hole of yours.”

  “She is perfectly secure. There is absolutely no escape until I choose to let her out.”

  “And why would you ever choose that when you could just let her starve?”

  “You have your amusements, Renata, and I have mine. I enjoy keeping her as a pet. And I will be thrilled to let her out when our work is done. I want her to see the magnitude of my victory over her before I kill her.”

  “Of our victory,” Renata said.

  “Yes, of course,” said Falkon.

  They spoke for a few minutes more, planning out the details of the coming days. When they ended the call, Falkon turned to Michael and said, “That woman has the gift of gab.”

  “Yes, Master,” said Michael.

  Falkon led Michael into the mine. They walked a short distance along an abandoned track before coming to the shaft.

  “Have a look down, Michael,” said Falkon. “What do you see?”

  “Darkness,” said Michael.

  “Indeed,” said Falkon. “It is a bottomless pit when looking from above. I was so pleased to find this place. I had no idea how deep that hole went the first time I jumped. It was quite a thrill. Do you like thrills, Michael?”

  “If it is your desire for me to like them.”

  Falkon snapped his fingers and Michael’s eyes sprang open. “Where am I?” he said. “What’s happening?”

  Falkon loved that first moment after the slave’s mind was released. The fear in their eyes was so intense. Their screams so genuine.

  He pushed Michael, sending the boy plummeting into darkness. The boy squealed like a stuck pig for all six seconds of his descent. When he landed, his legs snapped like twigs.

  Falkon jumped down, landing conveniently on Michael’s ankle. Michael let out a beautiful scream of pain.

  “I know you can’t see down here,” Falkon said, “but if you could, you would know that there is a steel door cut into the wall right in front of you. Can you guess what’s behind that door?”

  Michael was whimpering, his body thrashing about from the pain.

  “Fine. I’ll tell you,” said Falkon. “There is a vampire on the other side of that door. A very old, very powerful vampire, who gets thirsty from time to time, being cooped up in there.”

  Michael let out a low, terrible moan. The boy had a beautiful voice that echoed throughout the shaft.

  Falkon walked up to the steel door and opened a small panel, exposing a cabinet inside. He reached in and pulled out a wooden goblet.

  “I’ve had this cup since the year 1183,” he said. “It has held the blood of men and women from all over Europe. Nobles, peasants, even a princess, once. I feed my prisoner with this cup for old time’s sake. Believe it or not, she and I drank from it together once. We were in the hills of Andalucia. She was a good friend of mine in those days. It’s a shame all that had to change.”

  Falkon crouched down and bit into Michael’s wrist, eliciting a high-pitched wail that made Falkon’s heart happy. He held the open wrist over the cup. When the cup was full, he put it back in the cabinet, closed the panel, and pushed a button on the side of the door.

  “If you listen carefully, sometimes you can hear her drink it,” Falkon whispered.

  He put his ear to the door. He heard movement on the other side. The cup coming thr
ough. A hand picking it up.

  “There she goes,” Falkon said. “Drink up, Daciana. I wouldn’t want you to grow weak in there.”

  He turned to Michael, who lay on the ground, weak from the loss of blood.

  “It won’t be long, my boy,” Falkon said. “The pain will subside as your body goes into shock. Those last few hours will be quite peaceful.”

  “You’re leaving me down here? Alone?”

  “No,” Falkon said. “You’re not alone. My friend Daciana is on the other side of that door. I’m sure she would love to listen to you scream a few more times before you die.”

  Chapter 13

  Falkon’s home was cut into the side of a mountain in the Italian Alps. A sprawling estate made of twenty-some terraces that stair-stepped up the mountainside, Falkon’s home had a majesty to it that wasn’t even possible in America.

  Renata adored the place.

  Driving into the estate took her up a winding mountain road. Other than the villages at the base of the mountain, which were populated entirely by Falkon’s slaves, there wasn’t a trace of civilization within miles of the estate. The road took her past alpine meadows covered in snow, forests of tall pine trees, and steep mountain drops on both sides. As she drove higher into the mountains, concrete gave way to gravel. Signs warned that she was entering private land. The forest grew thicker. The road, more narrow.

  She crested a hill and the house came into view. Marble pillars and archways, a long portico all around, a statuary in the garden with modern works standing side by side with treasures from the ancient world—Falkon’s was the kind of home that required centuries of deliberate effort to create. There was a greenhouse, two guest homes, barracks for the slaves who lived onsite, a garage big enough to house a snowplow, and, in the center of it all, a multi-million dollar laboratory where Falkon and Renata hoped they would soon make a scientific breakthrough that would change everything.

  It was no wonder the guy was always hard up for money. His was a very expensive lifestyle. To do all this in secret, as had been necessary, required him to find a sugar mama who could score him lots of cash.