Though his expression had momentarily darkened at her reminder of his shortcomings, when she finished speaking, he shot her a twisted smile.
“Don’t you see?” The earnestness in his voice matched his fierce expression. “You can love me. I can love you. The magic of such a love will enable me to get you with child. I can redeem myself and everything I’ve done. I will make good on my failures. And I can still be the savior of our people.”
Heaven help her, she almost felt sorry for him. This man, who’d done so many horrible things, committed so many unspeakable atrocities, honestly believed he was only trying to help. He also refused to believe he was sterile.
And then he laughed. “And if you won’t love me, I’ll make you. I only hope you can last longer than Tracey.”
Her blood ran cold. There lay even more proof of his madness.
“Darryl,” she began.
“Doug,” he cut her off. “I realize that’s how you think of me, but I only told you my name was Darryl so you wouldn’t realize who I was. Now that you know, call me by my real name.” Icy contempt flashed in his eyes. Wow. And this man honestly believed they could love each other? That told her he knew nothing about love.
“Okay. Doug. I thought I knew you, but everything you told me was a lie. I knew Darryl, not Doug. How can you expect me to fall in love with someone I don’t really...know?” Or care for.
Voice heavy with sarcasm, he moved closer. “Because love is like that. I saw how you were with him.” He spat the word. “You loved Ryan Howard. Don’t even try to lie and deny it.”
She opened her mouth and then closed it. She needed to be supercareful not to antagonize this man. As long as he thought there might be the potential of a future with her, he wouldn’t hurt her.
Or so she hoped. But then, everything he’d mentioned about Tracey...
“I’ve learned something else,” he told her, his tone once again optimistic and light. “A lot, actually. In my travels abroad, I found a book in a Shape-shifter bookstore in London. I think that tome had been there for centuries. It’s really old and was dusty. I found it back behind stacks of several other hardbacks.”
She nodded, not really sure where he was going with this.
“The proprietor of the shop acted surprised when I tried to purchase it.” He laughed. “You know what? The old bat refused to sell it to me. She claimed it was too valuable and needed to be returned to the Drakkor Council. So I killed her and then burned the shop down.”
The casual way he spoke the words made Maria feel sick. Clearly, he didn’t consider murder—or arson—a big deal.
The book, she reminded herself. He wanted her to ask about the book. “What was the book about?”
He fixed her with a piercing glare. “Drakkor. It was filled with prophecy about our people. And there were some magic spells, too. It was written by some guy who apparently was a contemporary of Nostradamus.”
She couldn’t hide her shock. “The French astrologer from the 1500s?”
“Yes, that same one. Only he prophesied about humankind. This book was written by a Drakkor named Lucian Lefivre, and seems much more straightforward than Nostradamus’s ramblings. It’s taken me some time to translate the French. But it works. That’s how I cast the spell to have a kiss steal your magic.”
His almost palpable excitement scared her. Again, she tested her bonds. Though he’d claimed to have taken away her magic, she wasn’t entirely sure she could believe him. Either way, even if she still had magical abilities, his apparently were stronger than hers.
Still, she didn’t panic. She remembered the lessons at Eyrie. She’d get free. She was strong, she was confident. Even without her magic, she’d figure out a way. It was just a matter of time.
Meanwhile, just in case he’d told the truth, she really wanted to see this book. If it told how to use a kiss to steal magic, surely it said something about how to restore it. “May I take a look at this book?”
Gaze narrow, he studied her. “No. Not until we love each other.”
Which meant, at least as far as she was concerned, never. She had to press her lips shut so no sound escaped.
* * *
“We’ve got to find her,” Ryan announced for maybe the third time, pacing back and forth so swiftly it even made him dizzy. Colton Richards gave a tired nod, lifting one finger to indicate he wasn’t finished with his phone conversation. Since Maria’s father was on the other end of the call, Ryan kept his mouth shut. No doubt the tongue-lashing Colton was receiving from the older man was painful. After breaking the bad news, Colton hadn’t been able to get a word in.
And Ryan still needed to talk to Mr. Miranda.
In the meantime, standing around doing nothing was killing him. He had money, lots of it, and virtually unlimited resources. He’d promptly offered it to the Pack Protectors, just in case they needed helicopters, jets, hell, even an army. After a faintly incredulous look, Colton had politely thanked him and said he’d let Ryan know if there was anything he could do.
Which meant they didn’t want or need his help. Yet, aside from Maria’s father, Ryan doubted anyone cared more about Maria’s safety.
Gritting his teeth while waiting for Colton to wind down the conversation, he wished he had magic. More than that, he needed some sort of telepathic connection that would enable him to find out where Polacek had hidden Maria. And if she was all right.
With every fiber of his soul, he knew she had to be. He believed he’d somehow feel it, right in his chest, in his heart, if any harm came to her.
“Eyrie,” he said out loud, finally having had enough. “Let me have that phone.” Snatching it out of Colton’s hand before the other man could protest, Ryan cleared his throat.
“Mr. Miranda, you don’t know me, but I’m a friend of your daughter’s.”
“Ryan Howard,” the other man said, surprising him. “I know who you are. My daughter spoke highly of you.”
After thanking him, Ryan outlined his plan. Instead of immediately discounting it, or asking him how he had so much inside Drakkor info, Maria’s father didn’t waste time. “I’ll contact the Council immediately. If we bring together all of those with strong magic, I think you’re right. We should be able to locate them.”
“I hope so, sir.” Handing the phone back to Colton, Ryan walked off. He couldn’t believe he’d been such a stubborn fool. If he’d let go of his pride earlier and called her before she’d gone out with Darryl, she might still be safe.
“No sense in blaming yourself.” Colton’s large hand came down on his shoulder. “At least that’s what I’m telling myself and my men. All we can do is move forward at this stage and hope for the best.”
Hope. Such a fragile thing. Ryan needed more than hope. He wanted certainty. He wanted Maria right here, right now, in front of him smiling her beautiful smile. Unharmed and safe.
“The Drakkor Council is in charge from now on,” Colton continued. “We Pack Protectors haven’t been called off, because they know there are no better trackers. Why don’t you head on home and get some rest. We’ll start again in the morning.”
Ryan thought of his house, packed with revelers, and shook his head. “I think I’ll just get a hotel room,” he said. “I’m going to need sleep to make it through this ordeal.”
Colton gave him a long look. “You seem to care an awful lot about Maria. I thought you two had broken up.”
Instead of answering, Ryan shook his head. “Not the time or the place, okay?”
One corner of Colton’s mouth twisted. “Look, I know how you feel. I lost my chance with a woman who loved me because I couldn’t let down my guard. If we get Maria back...” Clearing his throat, he corrected himself. “When we get her back, you might just get a second chance. Don’t blow it.”
Ryan nodded. “I don’t intend to.”
* * *
Though the thought made bile clog her throat, Maria understood what she’d have to do. No matter what it took, she’d have to convince D
oug that she loved him, or at least had started to care for him. If she intended to have any hope of saving herself or Tracey, she had to get him to let her see that book so she could regain her magic.
“Where is Tracey?” she asked, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand in a futile attempt to clean the dirt from the concrete room off her face.
“None of your business.”
His mercurial moods followed no pattern that she could tell. Holding eye contact, she spoke calmly. “I need to see her and make sure she’s all right.”
“Why bother? Once we’re in love and you carry my child, she’s dead.”
Damn. A sudden thought hit her. “Why? Why settle for one child when you could have two.”
A spark briefly illuminated his flat gaze. “Explain yourself.”
“You know in the old days, kings and sultans had an entire harem. Why shouldn’t you have more than one wife? And more than one child.”
“Because she won’t love me!” he shouted, spraying her with spittle. An instant later, he calmed himself. “My apologies. I generally have better control over my emotions.” He took a deep breath and then fixed her with a piercing look. “The situation with Tracey is frustrating. I’m sorry for taking it out on you.”
This apology surprised her at first, until she realized he was back to playing a role in hopes she would fall in love with him.
This gave her another idea. “Any man I love must be compassionate.” She manufactured a tremulous smile. “If Tracey is hurt or in pain, please allow me to help her. Think about it, Doug. If you truly want to have us both love you, that is.”
Instead of answering her, he spun on his heel and strode away.
The instant he’d disappeared from sight, she attempted to push to her feet. But whatever invisible bonds he’d used continued to hold her, even in this different location.
She looked around the room, curious. Mismatched, utilitarian furnishings reminded her of an underfunded medical clinic or charity waiting room. Clearly, they were not in a regular home, at least not on Galveston Island. Any attempt to dig too deeply would result in hitting water, so an underground room like the one Doug had held her in would be impossible.
Unless he’d taken her inland, farther north. She had no idea how long she’d been unconscious.
After noting the shabby furniture, she studied the way the cracks in the ceiling ran down the wall and along the concrete floor. No water seepage that she could see. They were definitely off Galveston Island.
Since she couldn’t move, even to stretch her legs, she began trying to develop more concrete plans. Clearly, this wasn’t going to be something she could do quickly. Unless somehow the Drakkor Council rescued her, it appeared she’d be here awhile. She needed to make sure she stayed alive, and figure out a way to get him to let her help Tracey. Assuming, she thought, as a shudder snaked up her spine, the other woman was healthy enough to survive.
A sound interrupted her contemplation. Blinking, she glanced back the way she’d come, spying Polacek heading toward her with a motionless shape levitating ahead of him. As he grew closer, Maria saw this was a person, bruised and battered, dressed in rags and so filthy her skin seemed gray. Tracey. Unless he had more than one woman held captive.
When he reached the area where Maria sat, Doug slowly lowered his burden to the floor. As her body connected with the concrete, a cry of pain escaped her.
Maria’s heart stuttered. “Tracey?” she asked, her gaze going from Polacek to the other captive, who made no response when Maria said her name.
“Yes, this is Tracey. You wanted to see her. See what you can do with her,” he demanded. “She stinks.”
At his words, Maria felt the bonds around her loosen. She stretched and gradually got to her feet, suddenly unsure if her legs would hold her. To her relief, they did.
Slowly approaching the still and silent shape, she ignored Polacek as she reached out to smooth matted and lank hair away from Tracey’s face. “It’s all right now, Tracey. It’s me, Maria Miranda. I’m going to try and help you.”
* * *
The morning after the big party, Ryan called Timothy bright and early, waking him. He told his assistant to get everyone out of the house immediately. Once they were gone, Timothy was to hire a cleaning crew, offering top dollar if they could arrive immediately and finish within two hours.
Micah, Brandon and Roger would be arriving from Colorado the next afternoon. Maria’s father, Javier, would also fly in, from Wisconsin, arriving at roughly the same time. Colton Richards would pick them all up at Bush Intercontinental Airport and take them to Ryan’s large beach house where they’d be staying.
Ryan wanted the house superclean for his visitors.
Being the miracle assistant that he was, even with a hangover, Timothy came through. By the time Ryan arrived around eleven, no trace of the party from the night before remained.
For the twentieth time, he checked his watch. The house was empty; Ryan had sent Timothy back to Austin with Jeff and David. All of the spare bedrooms had fresh linens and the kitchen had been completely restocked. Amazing what paying a premium could do.
The planes should already have landed, Ryan thought. He’d offered to send his private jet to collect all or some of them, but the Drakkor Council had politely declined. Ryan guessed they preferred to take commercial flights, for whatever reason. At least they’d accepted his offer to provide a place to stay. With them here, at least Ryan would be involved in the decision-making process as to how the rescue would go.
And how fast. Maria had already been in that monster’s clutches for way too long. Ryan wanted her out now.
Standing outside on the front deck, Ryan tried to hide his impatience as he watched the black, government-issue car turn into his long drive. He’d given Colton the key code to operate the metal gate, but the system had been set up to alert him inside the house when it was used.
After parking, Colton got out and opened the back door to help out the elderly man from Colorado. Ryan suppressed a flash of anger, remembering what Maria had told him Micah had done to her when she’d first arrived at Eyrie.
A short, pudgy man emerged from the front passenger side, his dusky skin and jet-black hair so reminiscent of Maria’s that Ryan knew this had to be her father.
Ryan hurried down the stairs to shake his hand. “Ryan Howard. Pleased to meet you, sir. I wish it were under different circumstances.”
“I know who you are.” The exhaustion and pain in the older man’s eyes spoke volumes. “Though she never would admit it to me, my daughter cares for you.”
Ryan lifted his chin. “I’m willing to use my nearly unlimited resources to find her.”
“Oh, quit your bragging.” Micah gave him a good-natured slap on the back. “We all know you’re a rich billionaire. It isn’t money that will help us find that young lady. It’s magic.”
Behind him, Colton met Ryan’s gaze, his own stating plainly he thought Micah might be short a marble or two. Ryan gave a slight nod. He didn’t care about what Micah was or wasn’t. Only the possibility that the older Drakkor could use his magic to save Maria mattered.
Once everyone had been ushered inside his house, Ryan offered drinks and snacks. He’d stopped by the market and picked up some veggie trays along with cold cuts and cheese. Everyone appeared to be hungry, so Ryan and Colton hung back and watched while they ate. Javier Miranda had a few bites and grabbed a can of soda before coming to stand next to Ryan.
“I see you care about my daughter,” Javier began.
Meeting the older man’s brown eyes, so reminiscent of Maria’s, Ryan smiled. “She’s very important to me.”
At his words, Javier looked crestfallen. “I see.”
For the life of him, Ryan couldn’t figure out what he’d said wrong. “I take it you have someone else in mind for your daughter?”
This time, when Javier met Ryan’s gaze, he gave a clear challenge. “I do, actually,” he said, crushing Ryan. “Someone w
ho loves her.”
The weight on his chest eased slightly. He couldn’t tell Maria’s father how much he loved her yet. He wanted to tell Maria first.
* * *
At the sound of her name, Tracey moaned, but still did not open her eyes. The closer Maria got to her, the worse the stench of urine and feces and vomit became. From the mottled bruises and cuts all over her face and body, Maria could tell Polacek hadn’t been gentle with her.
Anger filled her, tempered by fear. A cold knot formed in her stomach as she realized that if she didn’t play her role right, Tracey would die. Maria bit down hard on the inside of her mouth to keep from turning around and clawing at him. Such a foolish action would only result in losing what tiny bit of freedom she’d gained.
Once she felt certain her expression was impassive, Maria turned and met Polacek’s gaze. “Why have you let her get in this shape? Several of these cuts are infected. She needs to be cleaned up.”
At her words, his expression clouded with rage. “She wouldn’t cooperate. Why should I help her in any way if she won’t help me?”
Hanging on to her self-control, Maria took a deep breath. “Remember what we talked about? Do you want to be a king or not? If you intend to have your own harem, you can’t be letting your women suffer like this. Remember, there are very few of us left.”
His nostrils flared. “Maybe so, but there are other women, other species. All a child will need is Drakkor blood. My blood.”
Maria looked down so he wouldn’t read contempt in her eyes. Clearly, he still didn’t understand the truth about his infertility. She wasn’t foolish enough to try and make him, not right now, when both she and Tracey were at his mercy.
“I can help you, Doug.” She used a soft voice, speaking as one might to a recalcitrant child. “But you must help me get Tracey clean and comfortable. I’m assuming you have soap and medical supplies?”
Arms crossed, he grudgingly nodded. “I’ll show you where everything is, but don’t expect me to help. And, Maria, don’t even think about trying to get away. I’ve enclosed this entire place in a cloaking spell, one I learned from that book. No one will be able to find us and no one inside can leave.”
Billionaire Wolf (The Pack 17) (Nocturne) Page 19
