by Margaret
She had no illusions. Once she’d done what he wanted, Zanus would kill her. He couldn’t let her live. She began to shake with fear. Her heart thudded. Blood pounded in her ears. But she refused to crumple in front of Zanus, to let him see her fear. She was determined to keep fighting until the very end.
The elevator jolted to a stop on the sixth floor. Zanus stepped off, pulling Rachel with him. As they walked down the dark and deserted hall, Rachel realized suddenly that while she was still afraid, she was also mad as hell. She was mad at him for betraying her. She was mad at herself for falling for his lies, his wealth, his charm. He had seduced her, betrayed her.
She turned her anger on Zanus. He had undoubtedly been plotting to use her for some time. She had been duped, that was true, but he had targeted her. He knew a lot about her. He knew her faults and how to play on them. She had succumbed to temptation, that was true. She had let him ensnare her with visions of wealth and in dependence. She could admit that and she would accept her punishment.
She felt a little surge of pride.
He no longer had any power over her. He could no longer dangle money and prestige in front of her like a pretty diamond and emerald bracelet. She was her own person now and she would fight him to the very end.
She resolved she would not place the trades for him tonight. She would suffer what ever torment he planned to dole out to her. She would fight him until her last breath.
Rachel had given up hope that Derek or anyone would come to her aid. Derek had no idea where she was, and she had no way of reaching him. There was no one in this building. No cleaning crew. No night watchman. No one to hear her if she screamed for help.
It was up to her to save herself.
Zanus unlocked the door to an office and shoved Rachel inside. He flipped on a light that was nothing but a bare bulb in a socket. The office was devoid of any amenities. The walls were empty. There was hardly any furniture—only a desk, a Globex trading computer, a phone and headset, and several chairs. Papers and pens lay scattered on the desk and there were some empty coffee mugs and an ash tray filled with cigar butts.
A second door was probably a closet. There were heavy curtains and blinds over the windows so that no one would see light in what was supposed to be a deserted building.
Rachel looked around, but she couldn’t find anything she could use as a weapon, not even a letter opener. Zanus was a big guy, muscular and strong. She doubted if she could club him to death with a Swingline stapler.
Zanus thrust her into the chair in front of the computer.
“The European markets are open now. You’re going to finish what we’ve started. Keep bidding up the Euros until I tell you to stop.”
Rachel lowered her bag with Sampson inside to the floor, keeping it by her feet, underneath the desk.
“I’ll do what you want,” she said, and she sniveled a little, as though she was beat down, terror-stricken. “Just…just give me a moment to acclimate myself. I’m used to working on the computers at the Merc. This one is different.”
She eyed the phone. Perhaps she could figure out some way to distract Zanus so she could call 911, alert them that she was in trouble.
Zanus took off the overcoat he was wearing and opened the closet door to hang it up. Rachel was tapping on the keys, logging in, but she managed to sneak a peek inside the closet. As Zanus reached for a hanger, Rachel caught a glimpse of a golf bag filled with golf clubs.
She almost laughed out loud. The golf bag looked so ridiculous and out of place in this secret office that had been set up to be used for illegal transactions. But, of course, Zanus would play golf. More business was transacted on the golf course these days than inside fancy office buildings. Rachel wondered, suddenly, how many crooked deals Zanus and his cronies had going. A lot, seemingly, to support him in the style to which he was accustomed.
He shut the door, but not all the way, and cast a nasty glance at her.
“What’s taking you so long?”
“I told you,” she said in a quavering voice. “I’m not used to this system. And…and you’re not helping any. You’re scaring me.”
“I don’t think you’re scared,” he said. “I think you’re stalling.”
A nine iron would make a good weapon, Rachel thought, clacking on the keys. If she could distract him long enough to get to his golf clubs, she might be able to knock him out.
“Damn, it’s stuffy in here,” Zanus muttered. He pulled off his tie. “And hot.”
He was red in the face and sweating. Rachel hadn’t noticed the heat particularly, but fear had messed up her internal temperature. She was chilled one moment, feverish the next. Now that he spoke of it, she did notice that it was hot in the room. A heat vent was blowing out hot air. Zanus walked over to peer at the thermostat.
“Some idiot left it on!” he said. He gave it a flick and the heat shut off.
“Open a window,” Rachel suggested.
“So you can scream for help.” He gave a snort. “I don’t think so.”
Maybe he’s nervous about being caught, she thought. The body always betrays the mind.
As if he were reading her thoughts, he muttered in a low voice, “I hate this weak body. I detest being human.”
He walked over and flung open the door to the office. Cool air wafted into the room.
“You’re not human,” Rachel retorted. “You’re a monster!”
“Shut up and keep working,” he told her.
All the while she had been tapping on the keys as if to be working on logging in. Rachel was already logged in, however. She was trying to lock his account. Rachel knew it could be done. She just had to find the right file. She hoped the information she needed was on some of the papers she’d grabbed before they left the apartment.
Rachel reached down to her purse and opened it. Before she could stop him, Sampson leaped out of the bag and streaked across the room, making a run for the open door.
Rachel’s heart jumped into her throat. If Zanus spotted the cat, there was no doubt he’d kill him.
Rachel dropped the paper and began to cough loudly, drawing attention to herself.
“Now what’s wrong?” Zanus demanded, looking at her and away from the door.
“My throat is dry. Could I have some water?” she asked hoarsely.
“You’re wasting time.” Zanus leaned over the desk and smacked her across the face with the flat of his hand. “Get back to work!”
Rachel cried out, as much from shock as from pain. Her cheek stung from the blow and she tasted blood. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sampson dash out the door and disappear into the darkness.
Rachel went back to her work. The blow left her trembling. She knew it was silly, but she felt suddenly bereft and forlorn without Sampson. He was probably terrified at the sight of Zanus. After all, the man had nearly killed him. Sampson had taken the first opportunity to run away. Rachel couldn’t blame him. She was glad he was safe.
But now she was truly alone.
The taxi seemed to crawl through the city and Derek cursed the traffic, sure that Satan himself was behind it. Every light was red and the one time the light was green, the driver had to screech to a stop to avoid hitting a pedestrian who thought he would try to beat it.
“Rain,” said the driver, shaking his head. “It makes people stupid.”
At last, the taxi driver pulled up in front of the building.
“You sure this is the place?” he said, gazing at the dark and deserted office building. He twisted around to look at Derek. “This is the address you gave me. Is this where you want to be dropped off or not?”
“This is fine.” Derek fished out some money, all he had, and handed it to the guy. He flung open the door and jumped out. “Keep the change,” he said.
“Hey, thanks, man!” said the cabby. He tucked the crisp one hundred dollar bill into his pocket, and said to himself, marveling, as he drove off, “I knew there had to be a reason I pulled into that alley. Some go
od angel must’ve led me there tonight…”
Derek ran up to the door. He gave the handle a yank and nearly tore his arm out of the socket. The door was locked. He eyed the glass on the door, thinking he could break in, but it was heavy security glass in a metal frame.
Derek looked up at the building and doubt crept into his mind. Was this the right place? It was dark, deserted. No sign of a light. No sign of life.
He looked up and down the empty street. Maybe William had deliberately sent him off on a wild goose chase. After all, how did he know he could trust William? Maybe William was in on this with Michael!
His doubt, like a demon’s sharp claws, tore at him inside. He stood in front of the locked door, a prey to despair, wondering if he should waste time trying to break inside or if he should go back and confront William.
“Faith, have faith…” he heard William’s words.
But that was Derek’s problem. He had lost his faith and now he was groping in the night, seeking to find it again. He wanted to trust William. More importantly, he wanted to trust God. He wanted to believe that he’d been brought here for a reason.
Derek thought of William and all he had done for him. He thought of what William had said, how Michael had deliberately chosen Derek because he was rebellious, because he was angry, because he had no faith in anything. Michael was counting on Derek’s doubt to destroy him. And here was Derek, doing just what the powers of darkness wanted—doubting William, doubting Heaven.
But what if Heaven had known what it was doing all along?
William had sent him here. And he believed in William. He believed that God had given him this opportunity to set things right.
“Just help me find a way inside,” Derek prayed. “I’ll do the rest.”
And, suddenly, an orange face with wide green eyes appeared at the door.
“Sampson!” Derek cried. Right now, he could have hugged that cherub.
The cat reared up on his hind legs and began to beat frantically on the glass with his front paws.
“Commander! Rachel’s in danger! You have to come help her!” The cherub’s words almost exploded inside Derek’s head. Certain now that he had Derek’s attention, the cat dashed off, heading to Derek’s right.
“How do I get in?” Derek shouted.
Sampson came dashing back. He glared through the glass at Derek, then inclined his head toward his left, which was Derek’s right.
“I’m trying to show you, sir. What are you standing there waiting for? Come this way. Hurry!” Sampson dashed off again.
Derek ran back down the steps and hurried along the front of the building.
And there was an office with a broken window. Derek wrapped his hand in his jacket, knocked out the rest of the glass, and hoisted himself inside.
Sampson was there to meet him.
“You took your sweet time, sir!” The cat hissed at him. Sampson leaped around Derek’s feet, nearly tripping him. “He hit her, Commander! I wanted to rip his throat out, but I had to find you.”
“Is Rachel all right?” Derek asked worriedly.
“She’s tough, Derek. She’s going to fight him. I know it. And then he’ll kill her. We have to hurry. This way, sir. Don’t take the elevator, he’ll hear it. Use the stairs.”
“Wait a minute,” Derek called after the cat, who had dashed away. “I can’t see a thing. It’s pitch dark in here!”
“Begging your pardon, sir, but this is no time to go all regulation on me,” Sampson said angrily. “You could flood this whole building with light if you wanted. Use your powers, Commander.”
“I cannot,” said Derek. “I’ve lost them. I’m human now. Mortal. And I can’t see my nose in front of my face.”
“You’re still going to stop Zanus, aren’t you, sir?” Sampson asked.
“What do you think?” Derek said grimly. “You go on ahead. Talk me through this. I can hear your claws click on the floor. I will follow you.”
“I’ll be your seeing-eye cat,” said Sampson and off he went. “Put your faith in me, sir.”
Faith in a craps-shooting angel. Faith in a green-eyed, orange furry cherub. Faith in himself—an angry, rebellious angel.
Derek smiled as he followed Sampson into the darkness that suddenly didn’t seem so dark anymore.
Twenty-two
Zanus stood over Rachel’s shoulder, watching her bring up the trading screens. Luckily he didn’t know much about this. He’d never been present when she was doing her trades on the Globex machine, and he didn’t seem to be catching on to the fact that she was attempting to sabotage his plans.
“There,” she told him. “I’m in.”
“It’s taken you all this time just to log on? I think you’re stalling. If you’re hoping your angelic boyfriend is going to come to save you, forget it. He’s lost his powers. He has no idea where you are. So quit fooling around and make those trades!”
Rachel had no idea what he was talking about as far as Derek was concerned. She barely heard him, in fact. The strain she’d been under the past few days, the hurt and anger at his betrayal, the guilt over what she’d done—all of it had been pulling and twisting her so that she was stretched thin.
And, suddenly, it broke.
“I’m not going to do it,” Rachel said, and she was amazed at how calm she felt after she said those words.
Zanus’s face twisted in rage. His eyes bulged, his lip curled. She couldn’t imagine how she ever thought him handsome. He was ugly, hideous.
She stood up and turned to face him. “You’re right. No one knows where I am. No one is going to save me. It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to place these trades for you. You can do what ever you want to me. I won’t do it.”
“Oh, I’ll do what I want with you. You’ll be begging for death before I’m finished,” he snarled. “But you’ll have to be patient. I have business to transact first.”
He grabbed Rachel, twisting her arm, and flung her to the floor.
“I don’t need you anymore. All I needed was for you to get me inside…”
Rachel gave a little laugh. “Don’t be a fool! You barely have any idea what you’re doing. The other traders will know you’re an amateur. No one will take you seriously—”
“Shut up!” Zanus whipped around and struck her across the face with the back of his hand.
Pain burst in her head and the world went white as snow for a moment. Rachel slumped to the floor, dizzy and sick and hurting. Her head throbbed and her vision blurred. She gulped in air and dug her nails into her palms to keep herself from passing out.
Her head hurt horribly. She was groggy, but awake. She lay on the floor, keeping quiet, hoping he would think he had knocked her out.
Zanus was smart and he knew his way around the market but not the computers. What she had said about the traders refusing to take him seriously had been a bluff. He might well succeed. She had to stop him. She watched him focus his attention on the screen. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to sabotage his files. She needed more time. She couldn’t fight him and win, she knew that. If she could only stun him or hurt him enough to get to the computer…
Zanus’s attention was fixed on what he was doing. He was muttering to himself, talking to the screen. He had forgotten her. Probably he figured he’d knocked her unconscious.
Moving slowly, inch by inch, scarcely daring to breathe lest he hear her, Rachel gathered herself to make a desperate lunge. If she could reach the closet, grab a club…
At that moment, there was a blur of orange and an ear-splitting howl. Sampson burst into the room and suddenly the cat was airborne, hurling himself at Zanus, speeding straight for him like a ground-to-air missile. The cat landed on Zanus’s head, dug his claws into the man’s scalp.
And right behind Sampson was Derek.
Rachel didn’t know how or why. She didn’t have time to ask. She could only breathe a grateful prayer and feel her love for him flow through her, easing her pain, giving her strength. She an
d Derek exchanged one swift, glad look in which they each told the other all the secrets of their hearts. Then Derek jumped at Zanus.
“Run!” he shouted to Rachel. “Get out of here!”
She ran, but she wasn’t about to leave. She dashed for the closet, wrenched open the door, and made a dive for the golf bag.
Zanus had seized hold of Sampson and dragged the cat off him. He flung the cat, still spitting and yowling, across the room. Sampson slammed up against the wall, then slid down it, and lay still.
Zanus cast a baleful glance at Derek, then, smiling as though he hadn’t a care in the world, he turned his attention back to the computer screen.
“You have to stop him!” Rachel cried, hauling a club out of the golf bag.
Derek ran at Zanus, prepared to drag him out of the chair.
Zanus didn’t even look over his shoulder. He held up his hand, pointed his finger.
A blast of air, hot and stinking as the breath of Hell’s foul master, struck Derek full in the chest. The force of the blow lifted him off his feet, sent him crashing painfully into a metal folding chair.
Zanus didn’t even look around. He continued with his work.
Rachel heard the crash, heard Derek groan in pain. Swinging the golf club just as she’d practiced at the batting cages, she aimed it at the back of Zanus’s skull and struck.
She had put all her hatred and pain and fury into that blow. It should have smashed his head like a rotten melon. It would have, if it had connected. Zanus waved his hand. The club vanished in a puff of black smoke.
Rachel stared at her empty hands. She was baffled and dazed. She didn’t believe what she had just seen.
Zanus cast her an evil glance. “You stupid, stupid mortal,” he said. “Stand in the corner and be quiet until I am finished. Then I’ll deal with you, make you pay for the trouble you’ve caused me.”
Rachel suddenly found herself in a corner on the other side of the room with no idea how she came to be here. She stood there, shivering, and wondering if she was going insane.
