Out of the building and onto the street, the thin layer of snow had melted from the sidewalk. A relief, considering all she had on was a lacy tank top and a pair of jeans that used to be tight on her, but were now borderline baggy. It would have to do. The more appealing she made herself look, the better. The baggy sweater Malachi had lent her the night before didn’t do anything for her figure.
“Now listen,” Malachi said quietly, walking in stride with her toward the club. “These guys are no joke. Mr. Green is working hard to get in Sarian’s good favor, and he and his thugs will do just about anything to make that happen. But the system works like trafficking, and you should know what to expect when they take you. There are five stages to the process.”
“Wait. Are these stages going to make me want to back out?”
“Maybe. But you need to know so you don’t freak out when it’s happening. You have to stay composed. When the time comes, you need to have a level head.”
“And you used to actually work for these guys?”
“Not really. Well, kinda.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Where was I?”
She rolled her eyes. “Stages.”
“Right. Five of them.” He counted them out on his fingers as he spoke. “Collection, transportation, harboring, preparation and, well, you know how it ends.”
“I have to ask. How are they targeting the girls? And why just girls?”
“A woman’s blood is more valuable than a man’s, and it depends on their age. The younger, the better. The sacrifice of a child has more power than an adult.”
Tara’s throat tightened. “A child?” She rested her hand on her chest.
“Don’t think about that right now.” They turned a corner on the sidewalk. “Just keep it together. Follow through with the plan, and everything will be fine. We need a code phrase. Something that won’t be too conspicuous, just in case we have to cut and run.”
Tara nodded. “That’s smart. Like what?”
He examined her for a moment.
Tara’s cheeks flushed with heat, and she didn’t know quite where to look. “What?”
“Your hair.”
“What about it?”
“We’ll use your hair for our code phrase. Just give me a minute to think.”
It only took another few minutes to get to the street where the club was located. She and Malachi had just finished talking about the fine details—who not to screw with, to stay submissive, always keep her eyes and ears open—amongst other things. Soon the club was in sight. Malachi slipped his hand around Tara’s waist. “They’re going to be suspicious,” he said. “Just remember everything we talked about. Act like you’re here for a party. Play dumb.”
“Wouldn’t that be every man’s dream?” He shot her a glare. She sighed. “Fine. Brainless ditz it is.”
The same bouncer manned the door. His gaze locked on Malachi while they strutted toward the entrance. The bouncer’s lips parted, and he fumbled with his clipboard.
“Hey, Raco,” Malachi said in a pompous tone. “Long time no see.” His confidence gave Tara a sense of reassurance—perhaps false, but she’d take what she could get. The large, dark-skinned bouncer clenched his jaw. “I think Mr. Green will be happy to see me.” He pulled Tara closer. “Especially since I brought a guest.”
The bouncer stared at Tara. Her belly fluttered, and she drew in a deep breath. Time to play dumb. “Oh, come on.” She pushed out a pouty bottom lip. “I really want a drink.” She pushed to her tiptoes and leaned to the side to steal a peeked through the double doors that swung open and closed with the passing guests. “Mr. Green let me in last time. Isn’t he here tonight?”
“Yeah, Raco. Why don’t you ask Mr. Green? I bet he’d be happy to see her.”
The bouncer’s lip curled. He lowered his clipboard and stepped aside. Malachi grinned and took Tara’s hand. “Come on, babe. Let’s party.”
The laser light show was in full swing. Tara followed Malachi to a side bar—one she hadn’t seen the last time she was there. It was narrow and sleek, set up at the back of the room, far from the main dance floor. He pulled out a chair. “Have a seat.”
Tara obeyed, though her eyes and ears were wide open. Her hands trembled, and she pulled them into her lap.
The bartender’s thin fingers loitered lifelessly on the bar top. He examined her and Malachi, his beady eyes bloodshot and red. “I heard you got snuffed out.”
Tara leaned back in her chair, trying not to look like she knew exactly what he was talking about. A knife in the chest would snuff out anyone. Well, almost anyone.
Malachi gestured to Tara. “I think my lady friend here would like a drink.”
She perked up. “One of those fizzy drink things I had last time would be awesome.” She bobbed her foot to the beat. It was all she could do to block the nerves creeping up her spine.
The bartender popped open a bottle and set it in front of her. He leaned forward on the counter, inspecting Malachi while his fingers tapped on the marble surface. “Mr. Green know you’re here?”
“Probably not. I’m hoping to be a pleasant surprise.”
“You made it.” Andrei paid no attention to Malachi as he stopped beside Tara.
She pivoted the tall barstool. “Yeah, I decided to have one last hurrah before I left.”
“Very good.” He gestured to her drink. “Is that yours?”
She nodded.
“You take it, and we will go upstairs. VIP level.”
Tara clung to Malachi. “What about my friend? Can he come too?”
Andrei didn’t give the courtesy of offering a reply. “Get your drink. We go now.”
Malachi grabbed her arm. “I believe she’s with me. Why don’t you tell Mr. Green that I’m back, and I’ve brought him a gift as a show of good favor?”
Tara stood and rested her hand on her hip, her head cocked to the side—universal dumb girl stance. “What are you talking about?”
Malachi draped his arm over Tara’s shoulder. “You’re making my date uncomfortable, Andrei. Be a good boy and do as you’re told.”
The bulky Russian clenched his fists and stepped forward. The air thickened with tension. If she didn’t get past this stage, she’d never get upstairs with Malachi by her side, and he was the only protection she had.
She let out a deep sigh. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll just take off.” She squirmed out from under Malachi’s arm. “I thought I came to party. So far, this has been a total drag. I’ll see you guys later.”
Andrei moved in front of her. “Not necessary.” He glared over her head at Malachi. “Your friend can come, if it makes you happy, pet.”
She smiled, but under her facade, the little voice in the back of her mind was screaming at her to run. “Oh. Okay. That’s cool.” Tara wrapped her arm around Malachi’s. She had to act like his date, but if it didn’t look real, Andrei might become suspicious. “VIP level, here we come.”
They gathered into a nearby elevator and waited while it ascended. The door slid open and Tara stepped out onto the cherry hardwood floor. Chandeliers dangled overhead, casting soft light throughout the upper level. The elevator doors closed almost silently behind them, trapping them in the quiet space.
Malachi grabbed her arm with a firm hold. Usually that would piss her off, but under the circumstances it was good to know he was close by.
A sleek, low-lying couch hosted two men. One of them Tara recognized, the other had lightly bronzed skin and a pair of glasses perched on the tip of his thin nose.
Mr. Green stood. “Hello, Malachi. I’m happy to see you made a quick recovery.” He gestured to the sitting area. “Please, sit.”
Tara lowered onto the couch. The fear she had managed to suppress to this point crawled slowly up her legs, prickling her skin. The room was secure and separate from the bottom party level. Even if she wanted to run, there was nowhere to go.
Tiny pink pills were scattered over the surface of a glass coffee table. The empty product ba
g hung limp over the corner with a scale sitting beside it.
“You’re just in time to sample the new shipment,” said the other man in a foreign accent. He used a pen to slide two pills toward her. “Ladies first.”
She shifted her weight. They looked like the same pills Andrei gave her, but this time each had a bold stamp in white—D5. “What is it?”
“It’s a complementary taste.” Mr. Green sat back in the couch. “Go ahead. Try it.”
She turned to Malachi for reassurance. Taking the pills was the first step of their plan. Then she’d have five hours before she crashed. Five hours to push down the nausea building in her gut, and to dance out the electricity crawling under her skin.
Malachi nudged her and snapped her out of her thoughts. “It’s good stuff, love.”
She plucked the pills off the table and rolled them into her palm. Her gaze moved from the drugs, to Mr. Green, and then to the man sitting beside him. “If you don’t mind me asking, who are you?”
“This,” Mr. Green replied, “is a dear friend of mine who traveled all the way from Japan to visit me. He just happened to come with a gift.”
The thin man bowed his head, and the corner of his mouth arched in a grin. “My name is Mr. Yamamoto. A pleasure to meet you.” He watched her for a moment longer before his gaze moved to Malachi. “You have a lovely guest. Most women in Japan have jet black hair and olive skin.” He sat quietly for a moment, his gaze returning to her face. “It is rare to find a natural beauty with both fiery red hair and porcelain skin in one decadent package.”
Tara shifted again. He was sizing her up—inspecting her for whatever purpose she would serve.
Malachi gave a single nod, signaling for her to follow through.
She held her breath. Showtime.
Tara dropped the pills onto her tongue and swallowed them down with a swig of her drink. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten o’clock. It would be three o’clock when she crashed. Five hours to consult with Malachi and make sure everything would go as planned.
Mr. Green stole a peek at his watch. “I think you’ll like this new product.”
She grabbed Malachi’s arm. “New product?” Clinging to him was all she could do to not jump out of her seat. New was not part of the plan. “You said it’s a new shipment, now a new product.”
Malachi pulled away from Tara and gestured to the Japanese man. “Mr. Yamamoto is our pharmaceutical engineer. This is the new and improved Drop5.”
Mr. Yamamoto’s slanted eyes narrowed even farther, as if he were assessing her reaction. “How do you feel? Dizziness? Fatigue? Muscle cramping?”
“What are you talking about?” Her heart pounded so hard in her chest, she wondered if everyone in the room could hear it over the pulsing music below them. Her gaze flickered from Mr. Yamamoto to Malachi, and back to Mr. Green.
“It is not working,” Andrei stated. She’d nearly forgotten he was there, standing quietly against the wall behind her.
Tara turned to Malachi and opened her mouth to tell him their code phrase—the one sentence they agreed would mean to cut and run. But suddenly, she couldn’t remember what it was. In fact, she couldn’t remember a lot of things. Her gaze slowly dragged across the room. The sparkling chandeliers blurred, looking like clouds of diamonds.
“Ah.” Mr. Yamamoto sat back with a pleased expression. “There is the initial reaction.” He used the pen as a pointer while he spoke. “You see, her pupils are dilating. Right now she is experiencing confusion. That is designed to keep them cooperative during the transport; much easier than the last Drop5, which gave the unexpected burst of energy first.”
She tried to remind herself this was still part of the plan—being taken where only the women could go, deep into the system. And Malachi would be there to protect her. She groped for a hold on his arm but found nothing except the soft fabric of the couch.
“Sorry, Tara.” Malachi crossed his arms over his chest, standing with a sadistic grin. “I had to get back in somehow, and delivering the guardian’s best friend was my golden ticket. Sarian’s pretty pissed you got away last time with that whole time bending escapade. This will definitely earn me brownie points.” He bent to tuck a curl behind her ear. She shrugged away. He looked at Mr. Yamamoto. “How long?”
“From start to end, five minutes.” He tapped his pen against his leg. “Now, maybe two. See, unlike the other drug, this one is used for quick transport when it’s necessary to take the target immediately. But unlike any other drug on the market, this leaves no trace elements in the blood. That is very important. The blood must be pure.”
Tara stared up at Malachi with wide eyes. Her gut slithered and she pushed down the urge scream. She had to get out—now. Her attention turned to the elevator doors. She tried to stand, but there was no strength left in her legs. With clouded vision, she reached into her pocket. Her fingers fumbled over the curves of her cell phone.
Malachi snatched it out of her hand and snickered. “You really are naive, Tara.”
Images of Peter and his beautiful blue eyes flashed behind her fluttering eyelids. “But what you said—”
“Was all a lie.”
Chapter Nine
Vines crawled up her inner torso and wove between the gaps of her ribs. The pain wasn’t as bad as the raw terror of something slithering inside her. She clenched her jaw, unable to move, trapped, and helpless. The vines deepened their hold, rooting into her, and—to her horror—they began to feed.
Cries from neighboring cells echoed through the halls. Moments later, the heavy metal door creaked open and Sarian strode in, placing one careful step in front of the other to avoid damaging the writhing roots, though they seemed to move out of his way while he crossed the room.
As its thorns moved deeper, she couldn’t hold in an exhausted sob. Something told her she wasn’t even close to prepared for whatever he was going to do next. Hopefully, he’d become frustrated enough to just get this over with, but she might have to help it along—piss him off enough to make him put her out of her misery.
That was the new plan.
With his cane to assist him in limping toward her, he wasn’t dressed in the normal tailored suit he usually wore. Instead, he sported an old style suit with a stripe running down the outside of each pant leg, a single button jacket layered over a collared shirt and a vest, with a top hat perched on his head.
The roots stilled when he stopped in front of her. His grip on the brass handle of his cane tightened. “I am running out of patience and time.” With a firm tug, he grabbed what was left of her hair and jerked back her head. “Tell me how to break the obedience spell, and I will command the tree to release you. Refuse…and I will allow it to feed.”
“I told you—” She swallowed, peering deep into his black eyes. “I don’t know anything about an obedie—”
“You must know something. You are the young guardian’s closest ally. She has told you something, anything.” His grip on her hair tightened.
She drew in a quivering breath, still glaring up at him. If pissing him off was the last thing she did before she died, that would bring her enough satisfaction to let go of life and move on. Zanya would stay safe, and she’d be free. It was too late for her anyway. Even if he ordered the tree to pull away, her injuries would eventually lead her to the same fate.
“Fine.” Her words scratched out of her throat in a raspy whisper. “I’ll tell you what you need to hear.”
He slowly released her hair, planted one hand on either side of her chair, and towered over her. “Speak.”
Her vision focused and she noticed a patch sewn onto the shoulder of his coat, half hidden beneath the extravagant collar. Burgundy and white with highlights of gold, the crest showed two lions perched on either side of a symbol. The big cats sat proud and lean with their golden manes framing their statuesque features. Bright golden eyes stared at her, while folds of a burgundy sash wove around the animal’s paws. She peered at it for a moment, examining wha
t looked like an old family crest on a flag.
The vines inside her squirmed, forcing her to shut her eyes and gasp.
“I suggest you hurry, you foolish girl.”
She peered through blurred vision and crinkled her nose. “All right. Here it goes.” She locked eyes with him one last time. “You really, really need to shower, because you stink to high heaven.” His face tightened. “Like, really bad. Rotten egg bad.” His lips pursed, and his eyes flooded with violet light, churning like angry waves. “And your clothes are really out of date—” Her remark was cut off with vines tearing through her gut. She moaned. “So there it is. You really, really needed to hear that.”
Sarian stood and straightened his jacket. Silently he turned and limped toward the door. On the threshold, he paused. “I will break the obedience spell, with or without your assistance. When I do, your death will have been in vain. I have great plans for the middleworld, but your guardian is making the process difficult. Perhaps losing her closest friend will bring to her attention the desperation of the situation.”
Tara didn’t have the freedom to inhale without the tree tightening even farther. She waited for a moment while the writhing vines slowly lessened her ability to breathe.
He growled, from deep in his chest, and slammed the door shut. Peering through the metal bars, his eyes slanted up, as if he were smiling. “Let us see where your clever comments have gotten you, shall we?”
***
Tara’s eyes shot open. She sat up quickly, to discover her arms tied in front of her with thin rope. A streak of terror arched through her chest, slightly dimmed by the realization she wasn’t bound to the chair anymore.
Unfortunately, her position hadn’t greatly improved. She scanned a dark basement—or what she assumed was a basement, considering the cement walls and stench of mold, among other foul odors.
“Hello?” She managed to push herself to her feet. “Is anyone in here?
“Shh!” Fingers fumbled against her leg and tugged on her pants. “Sit down,” a girl whispered. “Before they come back and see you’re standing up.”
Interlude (The Stone Legacy Series Book 2) Page 7
