by Rachel James
She moved across the room and down the stairs, startled to find the outside basement door standing wide open, raindrops splattering the floor. Lifting her gaze, she saw Ned shaking his trench coat free of raindrops. Alongside him, her aunt was scraping mud off her boots and scowling.
Ned spotted her first, greeting her immediately. “Did you think we would leave you to fend for yourself in this dismal storm?”
“I’m not alone, Ned,” Sonny said, annoyed. “Logan’s here.” He ignored her words, and Sonny hid a frown. This wasn’t good. The pair had come to ambush her now, instead of waiting until morning. Ned’s grim expression clearly telegraphed some sort of displeasure with her. Had they heard about Foster’s death already?
Ned was the first to reach the staircase. “You look tired, Sonny.”
Sonny contemplated telling him she was tired—tired of all the lies, the mothering, and the smothering … She halted the thought and addressed his concern instead.
“I can’t sleep. Storms jar my brainwaves. Why are you two up so late?” She moved off the staircase and joined her aunt, who was making herself comfortable in one of the empty lounge chairs. Sonny hopped into the window embrasure on her left. Her aunt leaned back, addressing Sonny.
“Ned feared you had been caught in the storm; he offered to check on you. I couldn’t let him come alone. The roads are under water all around the property. You know how much water a storm like this can drop in a matter of minutes; his van could’ve fishtailed and slipped into a swale. I offered to follow him, in case his van hit one of those pockets.”
“Which it didn’t,” Ned replied irritably. His eyes became flat and as unreadable as stone. “What have you been doing all day?” he asked, switching subjects and shedding his trench coat. He hung it over the back of a second wingback, rounded the chair, and took a seat. “We didn’t see you at lunch.”
“I’ve been showing Logan the sights, touristy things.”
“Where did you say the fellow was?” Ned asked, glancing around.
“He’s sleeping in the great room.”
Keeping her attention on the rain sheets pinging off the window, Sonny crossed her fingers and prayed the pair wouldn’t ask her where they had gone. She tucked her feet beneath her, curling deeper into the embrasure, and prepared to do battle with Ned first. He was always the first to use frigid silence as foreplay. It was an irritating habit, but for once she was glad she knew how to recognize it. It allowed her to prepare for the upcoming attack.
“How soon before this case with Logan Reed is solved, Sonny?”
Sonny’s gaze flew to Ned’s face. There it was. He was asking a question that she could sense had a double meaning.
“You don’t have the right to ask me that, Ned,” she replied.
The chains of his necklace clanked loudly. “Though it is rare for me to ever interfere in your life, I must be protective of the company now that David is gone. I don’t need to tell you things are tense since the staff has heard the news.”
Sonny’s eyes narrowed. What was he after with this low-key attack? He tended towards straight-on accusations. She cocked her head at him, ignoring her aunt’s brief stir in her chair.
“Are you planning to call Meta Corps and have Logan taken off the case?” she asked. “If you are, let me warn you I won’t allow it. His reputation would be damaged beyond repair.”
“Since when do you worry about a Meta Corps agent’s career?” her aunt asked. “You’re not falling under his spell, are you?”
Sonny’s mouth twitched with amusement. “Absolutely not. I read him the moment we met. He’s bright, witty, and extremely good at what he does. He has no ulterior motive in being here that I can see—except to solve a case of serial murders.”
“He’s arrogant,” her aunt chided.
“You forgot extremely handsome,” Sonny quipped.
Her aunt grimaced. “Don’t take that sarcastic tone with me. This is not the time for you to add romantic stress to your life. Send the man back to New York with your apologies and a promise to help in another case. With David’s death, and the press looming, Meta Corps will understand.”
“I don’t renege on my contracts, Aunt Charlotte, and for your information, there is no romantic stress in my life.”
“There will be if you allow Logan Reed to monopolize your time,” Ned threw in. “After all, dozens of people outside this company would enjoy harming you, or marrying you, for no other reason than that you’re rich.”
Sonny stifled a giggle. Ned actually thought Logan Reed was after her money. The thought was so ludicrous Sonny did laugh aloud.
“I’m sorry, Ned. I don’t mean to laugh. You’re looking out for me, and I love you for it. But you are way off base in this case. Logan is not after my money or anything that belongs to Blake Industries.”
“How can you be so sure? He strikes me as a very cunning young man. And whether you’d like to admit it or not, he showed up at The Sanctuary the very moment your father was killed. Perhaps Meta Corps arranged the murder and then sent their best agent to cover their tracks. After meeting you, he may have become fixated on you. After all, you are a stunning woman.”
Sonny knew she should be pleased by the compliment; however, she felt her skin crawl at the words instead. Why did the thought of Ned thinking of her as a stunning woman throw her off her game? She felt a light touch on her shoulder, surprised to find her aunt had risen.
“We have been protecting you since you were born, Sonny, and we have done a damn fine job of it.”
Sonny glanced at the fingers skimming her collarbone. But what had occurred during those twenty-eight years, she wondered. Altering memories, using patients as guinea pigs? She shook her head to rid herself of the unwanted thought.
“If you’re insinuating I am not grateful for the love you give me, Aunt Charlotte, you’re way off base. I’ve always shown my gratitude to you and Uncle Brad. Your kindness after my mother died got me through some dark days; however, I’m grown now, and old enough to have a man sweep me off my feet.”
Her aunt scoffed loudly. “It’s clear we shielded you too much from the real world while you were growing up. Along comes a handsome agent who plies you with compliments, and you begin acting out—like a teenager.”
“Nothing is going on between Logan and me, Aunt Charlotte. We’re working a case together.”
“A case that no decent empath would’ve taken,” her aunt remarked. She shivered in emphasis. “Peeking into the deaths of young girls can only be considered voyeuristic.”
“You think I’m enjoying the brutality of it all?”
“Don’t twist my words.”
“Then don’t stand there and accuse me of being indecent, when the truth is, the victims’ families need closure. If I can give them that, I intend to.”
Ned’s chains jangled loudly again. “Can the argument, you two,” he interrupted. “What your aunt is trying to say is that we know how hard you’ve been working the past year. We don’t want you to overextend your abilities by delving into some sordid world of debauchery and murder—especially with the week we’re facing.”
Sonny hissed her displeasure. “I decide when my abilities are overextended, Ned, not you or the family. I agreed to help Meta Corps because I can. They sent Logan because he’s extremely good at working with empaths. It’s a perfect match. I only wish everyone would stop treating him like a leper. It’s pathetic how badly we treat our guests and endanger their lives.”
Ned’s head whirled about abruptly. “What do you mean endanger? Has someone tried to harm Agent Reed?”
Sonny suppressed the urge to scream. She had to start paying attention to what she was saying. Any slip of the tongue could send her into revealing Pandora. Ned was now out of his chair and bearing down on her, and she held up her hand, sliding to the edge of the windowsill.
“Don’t go twisting my words, Ned. I said what I mean. The entire family has been extremely rude to Logan since he arrived, and it’s e
mbarrassing.”
Sonny hopped from the window and headed for the staircase. She needed to wake Logan at once. She needed backup, and she needed it now. She heard footsteps and whirled around, surprised to find her aunt following her to the steps. Her tone was emphatic when she reached Sonny.
“There’s some trouble at the Sans Springs office that needs handling. This is the perfect opportunity for us to meet with the press and take care of company business at the same time. I’ll go with you, of course. Ned can’t go. He’s knee-deep in appointments, and so is your uncle. Together, we should be able to wrap the problem up in three days, tops. I’m sure Logan will understand if you need a few days to take care of Sanctuary business. He can enjoy all the retreat’s amenities while we’re gone. After all, The Sanctuary is a perfect vacation spot for overworked agents.” She hauled out her cell phone. “I’ll make arrangements for the company jet.”
Sonny snatched the phone from her fingers. “Are you ordering me to Sans Spring, Aunt Charlotte?”
“Far from it,” she said, snatching the phone back. “I’m thinking of the company. David’s death has shot holes in so many of our upcoming projects that it’ll take us at least six months to recover. Besides, you don’t want to end up like your father, do you?”
Sonny pursed her lips. She had already endured two sniper attacks. It was the third she was worried about. If only Logan would hear their voices and come to investigate. Seeing Ned’s baffled gaze, she hedged.
“I’m ready to fight back if there is an attempt on my life. You have my word on that.”
“You make it sound like we should know that for a reason,” Ned said. His tone finally suggested outright hostility, and Sonny knew exactly what his next question would be. He didn’t disappoint her. “Do you think one of us killed David and is now intending to kill you?”
Sonny dropped her gaze to the carpet, concentrating on the tips of Ned’s patent-leather shoes. “All I meant, Ned, was until Dick finds Daddy’s killer, none of us are safe.”
“Precisely why you need to go to Sans Spring with your aunt,” Ned emphasized. “You’ll be safe there. We can’t protect you if you continue gallivanting all over the countryside with Logan Reed. You become a target for his enemies, as well as any that might wish to get back at Blake Industries.”
Sonny wondered what Ned would say if she told him he should be looking out for his own welfare.
“I want your word you will leave for Sans Spring as soon as this storm stops,” Ned stated.
“I’m not going anywhere, Ned, and that’s the end of the discussion.”
He drew closer, his expression as black as his suit. “Don’t go against me on this, Sonny. I can make you go.”
Sonny had no doubt that he could, but she wasn’t going to give him a chance to try. She studied his dark expression carefully, sensing that his demeanor seemed off tonight. More off than usual? her inner voice asked. Sonny suppressed an urge to rip off her gloves and touch Ned’s hand. His attacks were usually passive-aggressive, but not tonight.
He has an ulterior motive, her inner voice suggested. He killed your father and Foster, and before he kills you, he wants to be sure his secret is safe.
What secret? Sonny asked her ego. It’s certainly not Pandora.
“Your word, Sonny,” he pushed.
Sonny shivered, her hand fluttering to her neck. There it was again—Ned was making her skin crawl with his demand. She seized the small spurt of anger rising in her chest.
“I’m sorry, Ned, you will just have to be pissed at me. I’m not going anywhere until after Daddy’s funeral.”
She gave him one final look and then returned to the window ledge. When she got there, she studied the firebush adjacent to the window. Ned was beyond pissed. She had seen the cold fury in his eyes as she passed him. Was he pissed enough to drag her from the window and out the back door? If he did, he’d have a screaming bitch on his hands.
She heard one last clink of chains and then nothing. She steeled herself for another verbal attack, but kept her gaze focused on the firebush. A moment later, she sensed she was alone in the room and turned. Ned’s trench coat was missing from the chair, and her aunt was nowhere in sight.
And they left without dragging you out by your hair, her inner voice said. What’s up with that?
She heard the sound of two engines starting and sighed in relief. The pair had obviously chosen to brave a staggering hailstorm over her. And thank God they had. A knock-down, drag-out fight would’ve decimated her already shaky demeanor. She slid her legs up, grasping her knees with her arms. Now all that was left to do was to create a plan that would ensure she and Logan found the Pandora DVD as quickly as possible.
A green flash assailed her mind’s eye, and she focused on the image. The green key belonged to what? A green door? She studied the rain-drenched cat-claw bush situated a few feet beyond the firebush. Another flash of green whipped across her mind, this time a green building. Alarmed by the image, the hair on the back of her neck began to prickle. She knew that building. “So dark out there. So dark and so forever.” The words had her clutching her throat. She quickly reached into her pocket and withdrew the High Priestess card she had placed there. She didn’t know why she had slipped the card into her pocket after her discussion with Logan. It just felt right, her inner voice explained. We never ignore that feeling, right?
Clasping the card tightly, she prayed for protection. So dark, so dark. The mantra had her scanning the room behind her with a shiver. And then, searching for a plausible explanation, she glanced down at the Tarot card in her hands again. The Priestess. The Seeress. The Guardian of the Doorway. What secret did Spirit want her to see in the card?
She studied the image of Persephone descending the stairs into Hades’ domain and shivered. Down through the rabbit hole, one, two three; out the other side, fiddle-dee-dee, her inner voice chanted. Sonny slapped her knee with the card. But where would the other side be located? And what would she find if she went there?
She studied the card more closely, trying to think of how the card related to Foster’s confession. What had he said about the mind transfer? It needs a trigger, her inner voice reminded her. A green door to send the mind through.
That’s it, she thought, sitting up straighter on the windowsill. Hades dragged Persephone into the underworld to make her his consort. Could it be that simple? Was her real-life Hades bent on making her his consort? She shivered at the thought.
A thunderous clap exploded over Sonny’s head, and she bolted from the window. The lights in the room went out, and Sonny fumbled for the wall, hit it, and then used it to move. She heard a rustling nearby and then saw a flicker of a shadow. Run, her inner voice warned. Run if you value your life.
A hand suddenly snaked around her face, and a white cloth pressed against her nose and mouth. The action cut off her air supply, sending her into panic mode. She dropped the High Priestess card and began clawing at the fabric. Her gloves hit the hand holding the fabric, and she knew instantly who was stalking her in the dark. Ned had come back for her, but if he thought she was going down without a fight, he was mistaken. She tore at the cloth and then clawed at Ned’s wrists.
Her actions made Ned bring more pressure to bear on her back, causing the cloth to gouge her lips. Unable to struggle or scream, she recognized the smell of chloroform teasing her nostrils and knew she wouldn’t have the strength to hold out. If only she could remove her gloves and send Ned into a frightful vision of demons and monsters.
A cluster of stars brought a lightheadedness with them, and Sonny realized what she did in the next few seconds would determine whether she stayed alive. She focused her senses on memorizing every single minutiae of the darkness surrounding her—Ned’s hands, his posture—all the curves and angles. She absorbed the images, cataloguing, collating, and deciphering.
Pinpricks finally skewered her eyelids, sending her body into a meltdown. You’re a goner, her inner voice warned. She thought so, too
, as her knees buckled; however, unlike her body, her inner voice had no intention of going down quietly. There’s hope on the horizon, it nudged. Push the card where Logan can find it. He’ll understand its meaning.
Using her right toe, Sonny managed to shove the Tarot card to the middle of the floor without Ned noticing. Seconds later, her body went limp. Being lifted was the last thing she remembered, along with the knowledge that she was descending rapidly into a dark pool of nothingness.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Logan came out of his deep sleep with a sudden jerk. Sonny! The word brought him up swiftly, and he studied the dark and empty room around him. When had the electricity gone out? Dammit! How long had he been sleeping? He bolted from the sofa to the front door, relieved when he saw the sedan still parked under the lighted overhang. At least he wasn’t in total darkness. For a moment, he thought Sonny had stranded him at the cabin. It would be just like her to think she could solve their dilemma on her own. His gaze searched the room again. Was she off trying to reboot the breaker box?
The nape of his neck prickled suddenly, a sure sign that if he didn't find her, he’d find something unpleasant instead. He craned his neck, listening. The rain had stopped, and the house was too quiet. He began a rapid foot search of the main floor, promising himself he’d not do the obvious when he located Sonny. Kissing her sounds delightful, his inner voice approved.
I meant strangle her, he shot back.
He reached the staircase and moved up quickly, scouring each of the three bedrooms. He found each room deserted, and by the time he was on the main level again, his heart was hammering wildly. Where the hell was the mouse?
Spotting a lower staircase, he grimaced. He needed a flashlight fast. Searching a basement area in the dark was foolish. He whirled around, scanning the shadows behind him. Where would the wench keep a flashlight? He didn’t have to wonder long, as he spotted a gray panel breaker box next to the front door. He moved quickly, throwing back the panel door and hitting the breaker switch.