Confusion splintered the images dancing through my skull. Kitchen. Men with guns. Gran getting shot. The odd memories spun into blackness.
What’s going on? Where am I?
Glory was crying. She’d stayed in the closet, obviously too afraid to come out. Jacob ignored her snivel ing, her gulping cries for mama. It was almost as if he couldn’t hear her.
My cheek throbbed where he’d backhanded me. My face felt wet. He watched, smirking, as my trembling fingers swiped at the moisture. Blood.
“What’d you say to me?” he asked, his mouth curling into an even uglier sneer. “Say it again, bitch. I fucking dare you.”
“I-I’m sorry.”
“You’re goddamned right, you’re sorry.”
Slowly, I sat up, cradling my sore cheek. My jaw throbbed. I knew from experience a bruise would bloom there as ugly and obvious as a black rose among the white.
Jacob straightened. “Get up.”
My whole body quivered, pain and terror weaving thorny tendrils inside me. It hurt to move, but I managed to get to my feet.
“You really sorry about what you said?”
I nodded, trying to adopt a penitent expression, gasping as agony stabbed me.
He reached out, and I couldn’t stop the flinch. He cupped the side of my face he hadn’t bashed. “You’re so pretty, and now look at you. Face is all messed up.” He grabbed my chin and yanked my face to his. Pain screeched through me; I bit my lower lip to keep from screaming.
“Get your hands off her!”
Startled by the sound of Lyle’s voice, Jacob let me go and stumbled around to face the old man. He was pointing a .38 Special at Jacob. And he’d brought Roogie Roo with him. The little terrier stood next to his master, baring his tiny teeth and growling at my husband.
“Lyle, no!” I cried.
He might’ve been in his seventies, but his grip was steady and so was his aim. Jacob seemed to find the situation more amusing than worrisome. He tossed the bottle behind him. It spun across the carpet, its amber liquid splashing out.
“Get the baby, Simone,” said Lyle. “Then you’re gonna leave, and this son of a bitch is goin’ to jail.”
I couldn’t make my feet move. I knew Jacob wouldn’t let us leave. Lyle could be waving around an Uzi and Jacob wouldn’t have cared. He was well trained in combat and weaponry and didn’t scare easily. Hell, he didn’t scare at all.
“Please, just go,” I begged my friend. “We’re okay. Really.”
Lyle’s blue gaze hardened. “This is for your own good, Simone. Now get the baby.”
“Yeah, honey,” said Jacob lazily. “Get our darling girl and go with this silly old bastard.”
He grinned, and I knew we wouldn’t make it out the door. He’d rather kill me himself than let me go. And what about my daughter?
I looked at Lyle. I wanted, more than anything, to pick up Glory and run. All I had to do was to accept his help and take the risk.
That was the problem. I wouldn’t risk Glory. If there was any way to get her out alive, I’d do it. Even if it meant not going with Lyle.
I knew why he was doing this. He was a retired police officer who’d seen domestic violence end in tragedy too many times to count. Worse, his only child, his daughter, had died at the hands of an abusive boyfriend.
He’d shared those stories with me, hoping to encourage me to leave Jacob. I’d started making plans, but not much else. I was too intimidated to stand on my own two feet, not to mention apprehensive of what life would be like in the world that allowed men like Jacob to thrive. No matter how many times he hit me or threatened me or made me feel like shit, at least I had a roof over my head, food to eat, clothes to wear.
At that moment, I understood how pathetic those excuses were. How I let my own weakness and fear control me. Jacob beat me because I allowed it. Somehow, somewhere, I believed I deserved to be terrorized.
I glanced at Jacob. His gaze was on me, waiting for me to move, to decide. My heart jackhammered in my chest, and sweat slicked my spine.
“I can’t live this way anymore,” I whispered. I turned toward the closet.
Jacob leapt toward Lyle and wrested his hand. The old man went down on one knee, trying to keep hold of the weapon. He balled up his free hand and hit Jacob. None of his blows affected my husband.
Jacob wrenched the gun free and twisted Lyle’s frail arm. I heard the snap as Jacob broke it. Lyle screamed and fell to the floor.
Roogie Roo launched himself at Jacob, tearing into his leg. “Goddamned dog!”
He kicked the terrier hard. Roogie Roo yelped, flying across the room and smacking into the wall. The poor little mutt slid to the floor, limp.
Jacob aimed the gun at Lyle, who raised a shaking hand in a weak show of protection.
“Jacob! No!” I leapt onto his back, trying to grab for his arm, but it was too late.
He shot Lyle. Three times the gun went off. Three times Lyle’s body jerked as metal pierced his flesh.
The first bullet killed him.
I let go of Jacob, falling to the floor. I sobbed into my hands, praying with every breath in my body for God to help me. If it’s my time, Lord, so be it. But please, please help me save Glory. She’s just a baby, God. She deserves a safe, happy life.
Jacob dropped the gun and staggered to the bed. He sat down heavily, his gaze taking in the destruction he’d wrought. “Fucking bitch. Look what you made me do.”
Blood from Lyle’s body ribboned toward me. The gun was wet with it. Six bullets. Lyle had told me that a .38 Special had six bullets.
Three were expended.
My hand trembled as I picked up the gun. It felt heavy, the weight of the world in my palm. I got to my feet and swayed there, trying to dig past the pain, the weariness.
I aimed the gun at Jacob. “You’re going to let us walk out of here.”
“Or what? You gonna kill me?” He laughed. “You can’t even kill a bug, Simone. You’d rather set them free in the yard than crush one with your dainty princess foot.”
“The police are coming.”
He shook his head. “Don’t lie to me.”
Sirens sounded in the distance. What the hell had taken them so long? A few minutes earlier and Lyle might be alive.
Jacob’s gaze pinned me. “You called the fucking police?” He shot to his feet, his expression all menace. “You ungrateful bitch.”
He ignored the gun shaking in my hand. He put his hands around my throat and squeezed. His eyes were wild, his face red with fury.
I couldn’t breathe.
The barrel of the gun pressed against his heart as he choked me. My vision grayed and my heart pounded in my ears. The room was spinning, and everything seemed to be falling away from me.
I squeezed the trigger.
Jacob released me and careened backward. His eyes went wide and he fell, landing on his side. He was still breathing as the blood poured from his chest.
I fell to my knees, coughing, wheezing, trying to get air into my lungs. Glory crawled out of the closet and climbed over her dying father.
I couldn’t move, and there she was, two years old in her footie pajamas, squatting next to me, her tiny fingers dripping red.
That’s when I heard the police sirens roar up our street. The cars screeched to a stop, doors banged open, feet pounded up the concrete walk.
Too late.
I awoke chained to a wall.
Reliving that night was like being thrown into hell. Why was my conscience tormenting me anew? Here I’d thought I’d dealt with my past.
Turns out, not so much.
I’d been stripped down to my bra and panties. The room was as dark and stuffy as a basement. Not even my vamp vision could discern anything, not windows or furniture or even other walls.
I struggled, straining as hard as I could on the chains. The manacles that surrounded my wrists and ankles glowed blue. Then it seemed as if dozens of tiny nails were simultaneously shoved into the flesh bound
by the shackles.
The pain was excruciating.
I screamed.
Memories flashed. Intruders busting into my kitchen. Gran and George being shot. Oh, God. I squeezed my eyes against the ache. Was she alive? Please, please, let her be alive. Grief settled around me. How could she survive? That blue beam had taken down a vampire. Surely a human had no chance.
Suddenly, I realized that someone else was in the room. It wasn’t that I hadn’t sensed a presence before. I’d been alone. Whoever this was had just appeared without sound or movement to give him away.
“Simone Sweet,” said a voice. “Sweet, sweet Simone.”
Everything went still. My body went cold, clammy. “Jacob.”
“I’m disappointed that you didn’t keep my last name.”
“You’re dead.”
“So are you. And yet here we are, having a conversation.”
Dread pulsed through me. He sounded so calm, so in control.
“What? Disappointed you didn’t kill me?”
“Deeply,” I said.
He laughed in that hard, mean way I remembered. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. My undead heart tried to claw its way out of my throat.
I heard a click. My worst nightmare stood a foot away, shining a flashlight on me. He wiggled the light in my face, forcing me to narrow my gaze to avoid being blinded.
Then he put it up to his chin. He looked the same. How could someone so handsome be such an evil bastard? The yellow beam lit his features eerily. “Boo!”
He laughed, then danced the beam across my body. “Looking good, honey. Blood diet sure is doing you wonders.”
He knew I was a vampire.
Suspicious, I glared at him. “You were the one in the woods,” I said. “And at my garage.”
“Yeah, I shoved you through the barn wall—don’t forget that.” He looked at me, his enjoyment plain. “Simone, it’s Brady.”
His voice sounded just like Brady’s. He’d lured me into the barn, probably setting it up so the door would fall on me. And then he called on the cell phone and made me believe Brady had taken custody of me and tried to kill Gran and George.
“I’ve learned some new skills, honey.” He laughed again. “I bet you wet your panties when you saw me. Aw. C’mon, now. I couldn’t resist visiting my wife.” He tsked, tsked. “Imagine my surprise when our newest mission to rid the world of paraterrorists brought me to my old hometown. And not only do I discover Broken Heart filled with vampires and lycans, I find my long-lost family.”
My heart dropped to my toes. “You shot Elaine!”
“Wasn’t my finger on the trigger. Besides, every war has collateral damage.”
He didn’t have a soul. He was a fucking sociopath who liked to hurt people. How could he not be upset that Gran was injured, or worse?
“I never figured you for a mechanic. My guess would’ve been stripper. I mean, you don’t really have brains, but oo-wee, you got a smokin’ body.”
“Shut up, you prick!” Pain vibrated in every nerve ending, but my fury was even greater. “You took Glory, didn’t you?”
And Flet. What had happened to the pixie? I was afraid to ask.
“She’s my daughter, too. And since her mother won’t be around much longer, she’s gonna need me.”
Several thoughts whirled. Jacob was out of his freaking mind if he thought I’d die like a good little vampire. I had to find Glory and get her to safety. And Jacob was flinging around the same kind of military terms as Brady. No wonder he’d tensed when I talked about Nellis Air Force base. Duh. Nellis and Area 51 were both in Nevada. Where else would the government take and train an elite group of soldiers to fight paraterrorism?
Prior to the night that I shot my husband, Jacob said he’d been transferred into a new unit. He was training for something big, he’d said. Something I’d never believe. At the time he was bragging about it, I remember feeling only relief that he would be gone more often.
“You’re with ETAC,” I accused.
“Guilty.” He turned off the flashlight. “And your new boyfriend is on ETAC’s most-wanted list. You’ve been unfaithful, Simone. After all, we’re still married.”
My stomach squeezed, and bile rose in my throat.
“Oh, and FYI . . .” His voice was a purr and too damned close. He turned on the flashlight again and aimed it between us. He was mere inches from my face. He grinned at me and revealed a set of gleaming white fangs. “I’m a vampire, too.”
Chapter 25
Shit. Oh, shit.
Jacob hissed as he pressed his fangs against my neck, his tongue flickering like a slimy snake’s.
“Stop it!” I strained against the bonds. “Get away from me!”
The manacles glowed blue, and once again pain screamed into every nerve ending. I sucked in a useless breath, my eyes aching with the need to cry.
“Would it help,” he said in Brady’s voice, “if I sounded like this?”
His hand cupped my breast.
I wanted to vomit. “Get. The. Fuck. Off. Me!”
He laughed and backed off. “Darlene wasn’t nearly as . . . resistant.”
I realized what he was saying: He knew Darlene. And now she’d disappeared.
“You remember what it was like when you disappointed me?” Jacob reached out and stroked my cheek with one finger. His nail scraped my cheek. “She was weak, Simone. But you, you surprised me.”
“How long have you been here?” I asked, my voice trembling. And then another more terrible thought occurred. “You . . . killed Rick and Shawn!”
He didn’t answer, but his eyes flashed with malice. Oh, Jesus. He’d killed my donor and poor Shawn. And God knew who else. My gorge rose. “M-Marissa,” I whispered. “Did you hurt her, too?”
He shrugged. “She looks a lot like Glory, doesn’t she?”
Dumbfounded, I stared at him. Did he mean Marissa had been killed because someone thought she was Glory . . . or that she wasn’t?
A door opened on the opposite side of the room. Jacob turned off his flashlight and moved away. Thank God. I sagged in relief. The sharp projections inside the cuffs eased up. Ah. I got it now. No struggling equaled no pain.
I heard a buzzing noise, and the overhead lights flickered on.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” asked the man striding into the room. “I told you not to have contact with the prisoner.”
Jacob stood at attention and saluted. “With all due respect, General, she is my wife.”
“Out. Do not disobey my orders again or you’ll find yourself pinned to the wall.”
Jacob saluted the man again, then marched out of the room. I felt a smidgen of satisfaction at Jacob’s upbraiding. But I didn’t fool myself that I’d seen the last of him, or that he wouldn’t find another way to torment me.
I studied this new threat. He was short and squat, his face as flat as an iron. He had steely gray eyes and a haircut that made the top of his skull look like a wire brush. He was dressed in the same black outfit as the others.
“I’m going to give you a choice, Simone. You help us, and you get your little girl back and relocation to a safe house.”
“Or?”
“Or I kill you.” His tone held neither persuasion nor threat. He merely expected me to do what he wanted. Well, hell. Why bother with the illusion of choice?
“What, exactly, would I be helping you with?”
“We are executing a plan that will protect this country from the terrorist threat presented by supernaturals. The biggest congregation of parakind ever in the United States will happen in two days. We must nullify this menace.”
“It’s a religious gathering,” I said, horrified.
“We are aware of Patricia Marchand and her . . . condition. We cannot allow two of the most powerful segments of supernaturals to unite. Or breed.” Disgust wormed across his face.
He was crazy. Not once in the history of humans had parakind attempted to take over. Granted, the Wraiths wanted to rul
e over their human prey, but they never made it past warring with other vampires. Parakind took care of their own problems. Besides, there weren’t really enough of us to take over the state of Texas, much less all of America.
I felt chilled to the bone, and not because I was hanging from the wall in just my underclothing. Jacob was a vampire. Someone had Turned him, knowing what he would be doing as part of ETAC. “You’re using supernaturals to fight on your behalf. Isn’t that hypocritical?”
“We utilize the enemy’s tactics in order to defeat them.” He stood before me, his eyes as hard and flat as pebbles. “I assure you that we will be victorious.”
“Then why do you need me?”
“Your vampire gifts, in particular your water powers, will help us implement certain strategies. In addition, you are in close contact with Braddock Hayes, a man we intend to reacquire.”
They couldn’t have Brady. I’d give them everything else, but not him. He’d escaped from ETAC and tried to make up for all that he’d done.
Maybe it was time that I did the same.
“If you agree to our terms, you’ll be released from your imprisonment and briefed. After you complete your mission, you and your daughter will be relocated.”
Where? To Guantánamo Bay? I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck. Even if he kept his word, he wouldn’t let Glory and me go off on our own. The relocation would surely be somewhere they could control our movements. Or worse, we could be the next in line for experimentation.
I hated to think what he had in mind if I chose death before dishonor.
I did not want to betray my friends. I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt. But most of all, I didn’t want my daughter to pay the price for my mistakes. I would do anything for Glory. All I had to do was figure out a way to save Broken Heart, too.
Yeah. Easy peasy.
“All right,” I said. “But I want to see my daughter.”
“That can be arranged.” The General grabbed a wrist chain, yanking on it. The nails jabbed my wrist, and I yelped. Damn it! “If you do not do exactly what you are told, both you and your daughter will die. I do not give second chances, Simone.”
I nodded. The General terrified me. He was as cold and methodical as a robot, no more interested in emotion than a lycanthrope was in eating a salad.
Over My Dead Body Page 16
