by Madison Faye
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Daughter #13 by Zoe Blake
Prologue
For weeks… he had followed her. Watching. Learning.
He had intimate knowledge of every facet of her life: from what brand toothpaste she purchased, to her favorite pizza topping, to the way she licked her lips when she became nervous.
For weeks… he had followed her.
Watching.
Learning.
He now knew her better than she knew herself.
It was time.
Chapter One
A bead of sweat slid down her slender neck to trickle over the curve of her breast before being absorbed into the fabric of her sports bra. Today she was wearing a small pair of black shorts and a dark pink tank top with a scooped neck that showed a tantalizing peek of her baby pink bra underneath.
He liked when she wore pink.
The soft color emphasized her femininity.
Her vulnerability.
He watched as a bumbling gym attendant moved close and placed his hands on her waist. Mumbling about having to check the fastening of her safety belt, he was too busy eyeing her breasts to see her raise her knee. Tilting her foot upward, she slammed the heel down on his toes. The pathetic man yelped as he fell backwards.
He smiled as she innocently asked if the gym attendant was okay, all the while not even trying to hide the knowing smirk that curved her lips upward.
That’s my girl, he thought.
After giving her harness a reassuring tug, she stepped up to the two-story rock wall and began to climb. He watched the play of sleek muscle stretched under golden skin. How each limb gracefully extended from one secure notch to another. The quiet power of her movements coupled with her innate confidence made her intoxicating to observe.
Her long chestnut brown ponytail swished back and forth each time she swung her body from one handhold to another. The bright afternoon sun streaming in from the overhead skylights gave her locks a lustrous glow.
He loved her hair. Loved watching her brush the long wavy length after a shower or how she would toss it up into a messy, lopsided bun when she needed to concentrate on a task. He could still picture how it looked fanned out on her pillow, falling in soft curls about her face as he stood over her bed.
Yes, he loved her hair. Too bad they would have to cut it all off. Long hair would not do for what he had planned for her.
After she reached the top of the interior rock wall, she began her slow descent. A younger, less experienced climber stepped on her hand, causing her to lose focus… and her balance. She fell backwards. Her slim frame was jarred by the sudden pull of the harness around her waist, bowing her body.
He took a determined step forward before ruthlessly checking himself. He could not risk being caught on the gym surveillance cameras interacting with her. It would put all his carefully laid plans at risk. With clenched fists, he was forced to watch as the same asshole gym attendant began to slowly lower her to the ground. A little too slowly for his satisfaction. Only the thought of breaking the gym attendant’s neck in the parking lot later tonight appeased the tightening pressure of displeasure in his chest.
He watched as she was suspended above the ground, secured only by the harness around her waist. Visions of what he could do to her prone body as she hung helpless flashed before his eyes.
His cock swelled.
Soon enough he would have her under his complete control.
Pivoting the moment her feet were safely back on the floor, he left the gym.
His careful observation—as usual—went unnoticed by his prey.
* * *
“The FBI has their warrants, so we need to move tonight. A ground route will not work; the traffic patterns are too unpredictable. Have a helicopter waiting at twenty-three hundred hours. I want the cover of darkness but not so late someone remarks on hearing a helicopter. Understood?”
After giving his orders, Reid Harrington disconnected the call. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a second cell phone. Looking at the screen, he watched as a pizza app was opened.
Large pizza with mushrooms and black olives. Diet Coke.
Right on time.
He had cloned her phone weeks ago as a means of tracking her movements and interactions. Every Friday she left work to go directly to the gym, then returned home, ordered a pizza, and stayed in for the rest of the night. She rarely interacted with anyone until the following Monday morning at work.
She would not be missed for days.
Strolling over to the sideboard, he tossed a few ice cubes into a crystal glass and poured himself a generous three fingers of bourbon. He was anxious to return to the compound. Reid despised these business trips that forced him away for months at a time. His clients paid a premium for fast and efficient results. He was already behind schedule after the last girl failed to live up to her potential.
Reid flipped open the file resting on the polished wood surface and stared at the glossy photo paper-clipped to the top as he took a sip of his drink, soothed by the cold burn as it slipped down his throat.
Long brown hair framed a small, gamine face with bright, expressive blue eyes. Her pink lips were open on an easy smile.
Devon Chase.
Caressing the outline of her jaw with his fingertip, he skimmed the stack of papers contained in the file. The death certificates of both her parents. A list of foster homes. Her high school and college transcripts. Pay stubs. Cell phone records. More surveillance photos.
To the untrained eye, Devon Chase led a boring, unremarkable life as a computer programmer for a software company that designed video games. She had no family. No close ties to former classmates. Very few friends. The majority of her interactions were in chat rooms of the various video games she played. As far as Reid could tell, almost everyone who interacted with Devon, from her coworkers to the guy behind the counter of her favorite café, thought her a pretty, yet shy and timid girl.
They were wrong.
There was an anxious, almost desperate, energy about her. He could see it in how she attacked that rock wall, how she bested every video game she encountered with practiced ease… and in the haunted look that crossed her face in those quiet moments late at night when she thought she was alone.
It was probably why she had turned to hacking computers.
She was one of the most talented hackers he had come across. Up until this point, she had stayed under law enforcement radar because her hacking lacked purpose. There was no political or monetary reason… just boredom as far as Reid could tell. An agile, intelligent mind that is not challenged tends to manifest itself in destructive ways.
But all that changed a few months ago; she hacked the wrong company. She caught law enforcement’s—and his—eye.
It would be a shame to waste that talent behind bars.
Devon Chase was a woman who desperately needed a challenge, something more exciting than this staid boxed-in life she had created for herself.
Yes, they were wrong.
He knew raw talent when he saw it. Devon had true potential, not like the others.
Looking down, Reid swirled the melting ice cubes, watching as the remnants of amber liquid coated the sides of his glass. Tilting his head back, he swallowed the last bit of bourbon. Pulling an ice cube into his mouth, he crushed it with the sharp edges of his teeth.
Time to go claim his unwilling recruit.
Chapter Two
Scanning the silent hallway, Reid reached into his bag and pulled out a cell jammer. Adjusting it to a small area of just thirty feet and her cell’s frequency, he sent a quick electromagnetic pulse to disable Devon’s cell phone. Having already been in her small apartment, he was aware she didn’t have a land line.
Reaching for the doorknob, he sil
ently unlocked it with the key he had copied off her keychain earlier. Turning his head, he scanned the hallway one more time before slipping inside. The narrow hallway was dark. Moving silently over the tiled floor, he listened for any sign of movement. Straight ahead, the faint glow from her computer screen was the only light in the empty living room. He looked to the left. The kitchen was empty, with just the light over the stove to illuminate it.
A muffled step.
The rustling sound of clothing.
Then a burst of pain in his right shoulder.
In one instinctive movement from years of disciplined training, Reid crouched low and spun around on the ball of his left foot while swinging his right leg out.
A shocked cry.
The dull thud of a body hitting the floor.
The scrape of metal being dragged along ceramic tile.
Straightening upright, Reid flicked on the hallway light.
Fisting his hands on his hips, his mouth quirked in a smile as he shook his head in disbelief.
“A frying pan? Really, Devon? Honestly, I expected more from you.”
Her already frightened gaze grew wide with shock at his use of her name.
Sprawled on the floor, she was all tanned arms and legs, dressed in a baby doll t-shirt and worn pajama shorts, as she desperately tried to crawl backwards away from him. Her discarded weapon of choice, the frying pan, lying useless in her bedroom doorway.
Raising a defensive hand, she waved a cell phone in his direction.
“I’ve called the cops, you bastard, so you better run.”
He knew this wasn’t possible. Still, he admired her spunk in trying to attack and threaten him. It only reinforced his conviction that this time he had finally found the right girl.
Leaning down, he captured one slim ankle in his hand. Ignoring her scream, he dragged her from the hallway into the open area of the living room. He winced as a small table crashed to the floor after Devon tried to grab at its leg.
Straddling her hips with his booted feet, he wrapped one large hand around her throat. She instantly stilled. Feeling the press of her delicate jawbone against his forefinger and thumb, he lifted her prone body up.
“Please,” she choked past his grasp as her fingernails dug into the skin of his forearm, trying to dislodge his grip.
Without breaking eye contact, he reached with his free hand and grabbed the leather back of the office chair behind her computer. The chair swung from around the desk, the low squeak of its protesting wheels breaking the tense silence.
Lowering her into the chair, he released his grip.
Her hands immediately went to her throat, caressing the bruised flesh.
Tears pooled in her bright indigo eyes as she begged, “Please don’t hurt me. I-I don’t have any money, but you can take anything you want.”
The back of his glove-covered knuckles grazed her cheek. “I am taking what I want.”
He watched as anger warred with fear, each emotion playing across her beautiful face before she struck out with her foot.
Sidestepping her kick and the punch that followed, Reid grabbed the zip ties from his back pocket and quickly secured both of her wrists to the arms of the chair.
“Help! Help! Somebody help me!”
Chuckling, Reid placed his warm hand on her upper thigh. The suggestive gesture immediately silenced her.
“Now we both know your alcoholic neighbor is long passed out and the apartment above is empty, so yelling will do you no good.”
He watched as the tip of her tongue flicked out to wet her trembling lower lip. The small gesture affected him more than he wished.
Rising, he looked down at his secure captive. Reaching out, he brushed one large curl that partially covered her cheek back behind her ear, once more thinking it would be a shame to cut off all this beautiful hair.
“Just let me go. I won’t tell anybody. I promise.”
Reid inhaled deeply, taking in the honeyed scent of her body lotion. It was the smell of her fear. The elevated heart rate flushed her skin till it glowed warm and rosy. The warmth of her body then made her body lotion even more fragrant.
“I can’t do that, Devon.”
“How do you know my name?”
Raising an eyebrow, Reid placed a finger under her chin, tilting her head back. Leaning in close, he whispered against her lips, “I know everything about you, Devon. Every little secret. Every little detail. I even know what you don’t yet realize about yourself.”
Jerking her face away from his grasp, her eyes squeezed shut as if she could shut out what was happening to her. “This is insane. Please, you have to let me go. The police—”
“We both know you were not able to reach the police,” sighed Reid as he crouched down to remove several items from his backpack.
He could feel her eyes on him as he removed several needles, a couple of blood bags, surgical tubing, and a tourniquet.
With a shriek, she lurched backwards, stretching her feet onto her toes in an effort to move the chair away.
“None of that now. We have work to do.”
“Don’t kill me. Don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me.”
“You are far too valuable to kill.”
She licked her lips again.
Placing his booted feet on either side of her bare ones, Reid took a moment to observe her.
“Did you know that fear and desire have almost identical responses in the body?”
Devon shook her head from side to side but didn’t speak.
Reid leaned in closer, staring into her wide eyes. With the tip of his finger, he stroked her high cheekbone just below her right eye. Devon flinched and tried to turn away. Making a clucking sound with his tongue, his eyes narrowed briefly in anger. She stilled.
Once again he traced the outline of her eye. “The pupils of the eyes dilate. It’s a primal response. Your mind is trying to take in as much information as possible.”
Lowering his hand, he caressed her wet bottom lip. “Your breath becomes erratic.”
Reid couldn’t suppress a low growl when her tongue flitted out to trace the path of where his finger had touched her lip, knowing she was now tasting the salty tang from the leather of his gloves and wishing it was his skin.
Devon whimpered.
Flattening his palm, he moved his hand down the soft, warm length of her arm, till his fingers enclosed her narrow wrist. Pressing his fingers into her flesh, he said, “Your pulse becomes elevated.”
With his two middle fingers, he traced a path from her collarbone to the gentle swell of her breast, exposed by the deep V in her t-shirt. “I’ve been watching you for weeks, Devon. Yesterday, I watched as a single bead of sweat caressed your skin along this same path.”
With those words, he pulled on the neckline of her t-shirt, forcing it down further. Her breasts spilled out.
“Oh, god! Don’t! Please!” Her cries became hysterical.
Reid cupped one breast in his hand. Feeling the warmth of her skin through his gloves, he placed his other hand over her mouth and nose.
Devon struggled against her binds. The chair bounced and rocked with her efforts.
“Shhh. Stop fighting. You are only making it worse for yourself.”
Reid pinched her nipple, knowing the pain would bring her back from the edge of hysteria and once more focus her mind on him.
Devon immediately stilled. He removed his hand, allowing her to gulp in a desperate breath.
“Good girl,” he murmured as he stroked her hair.
Turning, he reached for the tourniquet.
Devon once more started to shimmy in the chair and cry.
“Don’t worry, my pet. This will all be over soon.”
He wrapped the yellow rubber tube around her upper arm, pulling on the ends till it tightened painfully, her skin whitening. Next he reached for a needle.
“Oh, god! You don’t have to do this. Please. I won’t tell anyone. Just let me go. Please don’t do this!”
/> Ignoring her pleas, he tapped the inner bend of her elbow several times till he found a suitable vein. Pressing the tip of the needle against her flesh, he applied steady pressure till he could feel a gentle pop. Her skin gave way and the needle sank in deep.
Attaching the blood bag tube to the needle, he released the tourniquet.
They both watched in silence as her dark crimson blood began to flow down the clear plastic tubing into the bag.
“What are you doing to me?” she whimpered.
Taking pity on her, Reid answered, “I can’t have someone looking that hard for you after we are gone. This is a little insurance.”
“Gone? Fuck. Where are you taking me?”
“Those are questions for later.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you… you bastard. I’ll fight. I’ll scream!” she threatened.
“That’s my girl,” responded an unperturbed Reid.
By now the first bag was full. He switched to a fresh bag, checking the fastening at the needle.
“Two units should do it.”
Her eyes began to flutter. Two units of lost blood wouldn’t kill her but it should weaken her enough for him to complete his plan. Just in case, he also had a syringe of morphine at the ready.
By the time the second bag was filled, her head had lolled to the side. He removed the needle from her arm. Taking out his knife, he gently placed the tip against her skin as the sharp edge of the blade snapped the hard plastic zip tie in half. He repeated the gesture till she was no longer bound to the chair.
Devon’s body pitched forward. He caught her slight form in his arms, holding her close to his chest. Bending his knees, he snatched up the two bags of warm blood before carrying her into the bedroom.
