Blood & Fire (Vigilante Crime Series Book 2)

by Kristi Belcamino

  “In another cabin. I will show you.”

  Smith was anxious to turn over the girl and get this man and his creepy followers off his property.

  The Sultan stepped aside, along with the girls, as Smith stepped out of the door.

  As Smith brushed by the man, an icy chill ran down his spine.

  Just then he heard shouting and screams from one of the cabins.

  Alarmed, he picked up his pace, nearly running. It was so strange that he could feel the brush of wind beside him as the Sultan kept pace.

  31

  Present Day

  Australia

  The inspector had just locked up the door to headquarters when he heard a sound behind him.

  He spun, ready to fight, but saw Bella Pepin standing there.

  She screamed and held her hand to her chest.

  “Dear Lord, Inspector, you gave me a fright.”

  He laughed and then saw she was near tears.

  “What is it?”

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  “No, ma’am, I was just thinking how funny it was that we each startled one another.”

  She thought about it for a second and then gave a short laugh.

  “Yes.”

  He was eager to get out to find Rose but didn’t want to be rude.

  “What can I help you with on this fine night, Ms. Pepin?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me something.”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “Is Samuel faithful to me?”

  Harris froze. If Samuel Dean Smith had been around him right then, he would’ve strangled the man with his bare hands. And damn his own upbringing which made it nearly impossible to lie to an innocent. Besides, he had a feeling Bella Pepin would see right through a lie.

  “I don’t really know, Ms. Pepin, but I can’t imagine why he wouldn’t be. You are a really kind and loving woman.”

  She frowned. Not the answer she was looking for.

  “Why do you ask?” Harris said.

  “I saw him tonight. He was with a girl. A girl with dark hair. They drove right past me when I was taking my nightly walk. I recognized the sound of his car and turned to wave, and he looked away. Well, he actually ducked. And I saw that he was in the backseat with a girl with long dark hair.”

  His heart racing, Harris said a quick goodbye and sprinted for his car.

  32

  Present Day

  Australia

  As soon as the hand clamped down on her wrist, Rose twisted out of it and, instead of running, came back with a solid strike to the man’s neck with the side of her hand bladed. He reeled and reached for her, grabbing the back of her shirt and pulling her closer by the collar with one hand while punching her in the gut with the other.

  With her arms flailing, Rose managed to reach out and grab a candlestick next to the chair and swung it so that the heavy side of the metal struck the man’s temple. The candle went flying. The blow was enough for him to stagger back, letting go of her shirt.

  She stepped back and then he lunged for her. She met his attack with a high kick to his nose and even in the dim light saw blood spray out. But despite this, he was on her, charging for her midsection. He lifted her and tossed her like a doll. She landed against the wall, the wind completely knocked out of her.

  With a roar he shouted, “Die, bitch,” and came after her, arms swinging.

  Rose still managed to scramble to her hands and knees and meet his attack with an outstretched and scissored leg that swept his feet out from under him and sent him flying onto his back.

  Meanwhile, out of the corner of her eye, she saw that one of the candles—maybe it had been knocked over in the struggle—had caught the bed on fire, and the flames were a foot high.

  Although she’d sent the man sprawling, he sprung back up and came at her again, fists swinging. He was stronger and more powerful than her, but he was clearly unfamiliar with martial arts. He only had brute strength against her attacks and ability to duck his swings. He stepped forward, throwing lightning-fast punches, but she managed to evade most of them by either ducking or deflecting them with her elbows. A few grazed her—one in particular managed to brush her jaw and sent her reeling.

  “You are going to die, and it’s going to hurt worse than you can imagine,” the man grunted between blows.

  Meanwhile, the fire had spread and one corner of the room was on fire. The air was filled with smoke, stinging her eyes and making both of them cough.

  He backed her into a corner. He reached behind him and now Rose saw he held a knife. Keeping her eyes on the knife, Rose snatched a lamp off a table and smashed him over the head with it. It shattered and while he shook his head to recover, she raced for the door.

  Playtime was over.

  The fire was spreading fast.

  It was now up in the rafters of the cabin.

  Before she got far, though, the man grabbed her by her hair and yanked, sending her flying back toward him. The impact into his chest sent them both down to the ground, with Rose on top of him. She heard the knife clatter to the floor.

  She flipped around and, face-to-face with him, bent her head and headbutted his nose, which she figured was already broken. The impact made her head swim, but he instantly went limp and let go of her. Right before scrambling away, she plucked the knife off the floor.

  Choking on the acrid smoke and with tears falling relentlessly from her burning eyes, Rose crawled for the door. At the last minute, she gave a backward glance to the man.. He was unconscious and would probably die in the flames. But he was too big for her to drag out of the fire. And she didn’t owe him that anyway. He would have killed her if he could have. She owed him nothing.

  But a small part of her felt a sliver of remorse as she turned the handle of the door and threw herself out into the fresh air as the cabin erupted in flames behind her.

  Looking quickly around, she saw that the cabin was one of several in a long row. It was near a heavily wooded area. She heard shouting from the other direction.

  Instinctively, she ducked behind the cabin closest to her and began running behind the row of cabins toward the sounds of people shouting, only pausing to peek out when she came to the spaces between the cabins. Each time, she would look toward the path in the front of the cabins and if she didn’t see anyone, she would dart to the back of the other cabin.

  Anyone looking for her would assume she had fled toward the woods and the vast parkland behind them. And, normally that would make sense. But she was outnumbered, so she would have to outsmart them.

  Finally, she was behind the last cabin. The sound of voices had faded. It appeared everyone was at the other end of the row, where the fire was.

  As she paused, Rose thought about the battle in the cabin and was disturbed. Not that she’d killed a man. She was trained to do that. She was uneasy that she’d felt remorse about leaving him to die.

  It was not good. She was losing her edge.

  Peeking out from the last cabin, she saw they were on a ridge with views of the valley below. The compound was situated at the top of a long, steep driveway. She could see it snake down through the trees to what appeared to be a main road below.

  Near her was a dirt lot. There were two big white vans and a black suburban parked there.

  A chill ran down her spine.

  At the same time, she felt an icy wind lift up the hair on the back of her neck.

  She held the knife tightly with her hand pressed against her thigh. She whirled in time to see the black figure slither across the road and come to stand in front of her.

  The Sultan.

  “You have been looking for me.”

  It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

  The voice was the same as she remembered.

  Gripping the blade in her hand she planned how she would swing the sliver of steel up and slice the flesh beneath that robe, cutting a smiley face across that neck. She could imagine the bloody arc of arterial spray th
at would result from that cut.

  He took one step closer. She held her breath, staring straight up into the gaping black hole where there should’ve be a face, head, and a neck. She couldn’t tell if he had on a hood or didn’t have a face because he was the devil or Grim Reaper himself.

  He leaned down. For a second, she was paralyzed. She couldn’t tell whether it was from sheer terror or disbelief that, after all this time, he was finally within striking distance.

  Her heart pounded in her ears, and it seemed as if the whooshing sound of her blood could be heard for miles. And still, she could not move.

  She smelled him then.

  That putrid, dragged-from-the-bowels-of-the-earth stench.

  She gagged and the reflex seemed to break the spell.

  It was now or never.

  She sprung, reaching up and slicing the blade through the air, stretching to make contact with the pale throat that must have been somewhere in those folds.

  But somehow, he dodged her, leaning back like a rubber man, and she realized that she’d just missed him. But then she saw blood on the tip of her blade as it flashed before her, making a wide arc from the power of her thrust.

  She’d cut him. But not enough. A long arm reached out and plucked the blade from her grasp with ease.

  With horror, she watched as he seemed to rise taller than was humanly possible. She blinked. It had to be a trick of her eyes. But he seemed much taller than he had before; much taller than any man truly was. And he grew seemingly wider until his black form was all she could see.

  She felt as if she were dreaming.

  At the same time, she heard the sounds of sirens. It was a cacophony of different pitched and types of sirens growing louder and closer. Her head swiveled and she looked to the side down toward the road far below. She saw a long line of emergency vehicles, police cars, ambulances, fire trucks, and other dark vehicles with red and blue lights. Some of them were already snaking their way up the driveway, growing close.

  At the same time, she heard an explosion and then more shouting from the row of cabins.

  And still, Sultan loomed above her.

  There was the slightest shift in the air, but it was enough to release her from her frozen state so that she, sensing the danger, drew back and turned one shoulder in an attempt to deflect the blow she knew was coming.

  But it wasn’t enough. She felt the ice-cold blade plunge into her chest at the same time a slight wind indicated that she was now standing there alone.

  The Sultan had disappeared. Vanished. Completely gone.

  At the same time that the emergency vehicles arrived in the driveway and the group of people appeared before her, she felt sudden warmth on her chest and realized it was her own blood. Her vision began to kaleidoscope and she fell to her knees as people rushed over to her. Then unable to prevent herself from falling, she toppled onto her side and sank into utter darkness.

  33

  Present Day

  Australia

  Rose woke to bright lights and doctors leaning over her.

  “Good morning. You are a very lucky young lady,” a woman said in a thick Australian accent. “Do you remember what happened?”

  An image of the Sultan looming over her returned to Rose.

  She tried to sit up, but several hands held her down. “Easy now, you don’t want to tear your stitches.”

  Rose blinked.

  “The man who stabbed me? Is he…?”

  The doctor shook her head. Apparently, he fled before police arrived. “I know there is a large manhunt for him. But don’t worry, we have armed police officers stationed outside your room. Nobody is going to hurt you. I promise.”

  Rose tried again to sit up. “I need to speak to the inspector. Please.”

  The doctor gave her a smile that seemed fake. “I will let him know. For now, I want you to rest. We managed to close your wound and you didn’t lose too much blood but you’re going to have to stay here and get some antibiotics for a while. That’s what I’m most concerned about now—infection. Who knows where that blade has been.”

  Rose frowned. “How long is a while.”

  The doctor exhaled and scrunched up her face, thinking. “I’d say a week to be safe.”

  Alarmed, Rose shook her head. “I can’t. That’s too long. He’s going to get away.”

  “Don’t worry. As I said, there’s a manhunt going on right now. He can’t get far.”

  Rose didn’t respond. Instead, she stared until the doctor grew uncomfortable and looked away.

  “Time to rest now.” The doctor headed toward the door but then paused. “I didn’t see any identification when they brought you in, and I notice you didn’t ask for any family member just now. Is there anybody we can contact?”

  “Yes,” Rose said. “The inspector. I need to speak to him.”

  The doctor looked at Rose for a long moment and then said resignedly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  A few hours later, Inspector Harris walked into the room.

  “Did you find him?”

  He frowned. “Smith? He’s in custody. Along with a few others.”

  “No, I mean the Sultan.”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Rose closed her eyes. He’d gotten away again.

  “Smith has confessed to the murders of eight girls.”

  Rose’s eyes flew open.

  “He also said that he worked with the Sultan once or twice and that the man was specifically interested in having you handed over to him. Alive.”

  “And yet he tried to kill me.”

  The inspector frowned. “That’s the funny thing. I’m not sure he did. I’m not sure he did, we caught a glimpse of his as he stabbed you, and it looked like he held back—as if he wanted to simply injure you and not kill you.”

  “How could you tell that?” Rose said, slightly irritated.

  “Just a feeling. I felt so helpless and thought for sure we were witnessing your murder. But he leaned back and then very slowly slashed out at you. It was very…calculated…is the sense I got. I just can’t figure out why. And then he disappeared. He ducked behind the cabin at some ungodly speed. By the time we reached you, he was long gone. I’ve never seen a big man move that fast.”

  Rose didn’t answer. She was thinking about what she’d just been told.

  She’d assumed the Sultan had tried to kill her and failed. Never for a second had she considered he hadn’t wanted her dead. But what the inspector said made sense. If the Sultan had told Papa he wanted Rose alive, then it would make sense somewhat that he hadn’t killed her right then and there. He had something else in mind.

  Something the doctor said came back to her. Rose felt sick.

  “Who knows where that blade has been.”

  Rose knew where it had been right before it cut her. It had been in the Sultan’s body. The blade had been covered with his blood.

  Bile rose in her throat. His blood was now in her.

  34

  Present Day

  Australia

  Inspector Harris called Rose at the hospital to tell her he’d finished every death notification.

  After the fire, Smith and thirty of his cult members had been arrested. Some for murder, some for helping him. And surprisingly, everyone but Smith had decided to cop a deal. They gave horrific details of Satanic rituals and told how the bodies were mummified for a day or two in the hot sun and then put in canvas bags with heavy rocks and sunk to the bottom of the quarry.

  After exhaustive searches using high-tech sonar, the dive teams had retrieved the bodies of five girls.

  The mystery of how the arm got to the beach was more mundane.

  One of the young men intent on guarding the body had fallen asleep, and when he awoke, a pack of dingos was having at Maggie May’s corpse. He chased them away but not before one absconded with the arm, apparently dragging it to the shore.

  “Thanks for letting me know,” she said. She told Harris she’d be around for a fe
w months after she was discharged. She asked if he would call her if he heard anything about the Sultan, but that she was planning on leaving Australia.

  “Of course. I haven’t forgotten about him. In fact, he’s going to be on my radar for a long time, I think.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Harris hung up with the sense that a chapter in his life had ended but another one had started.

  He’d closed the case on the Family’s murder victims but would be working to stop an even worse monster who traveled around in a big black boat.

  He had to admit. it did feel good to shut the Family murders case.

  It’d taken a lot of digging, but he’d managed to find the biological parents of each murdered girl.

  And Jill Jones had gone out with him.

  He’d run into her one at the bar as he sipped his diet soda and she plopped her bag down beside him.

  “You think you’re a big tough guy, but I see right through you, Harris.”

  He looked up in surprise. Her eyes twinkled as she smiled.

  “Come on. You only live once. We can at least take it slowly.”

  “You’re pretty damn persistent.”

  “Listen, Harris,” she said and then downed her shot of vodka. “I’m forty years old. I don’t have time for games. When I meet someone I like, I’m going to tell him. I like you. You like me. Let’s drop the bullshit and just get to it.”

  “Get to it?”

  She gave him a wicked smile and, with her hand on his thigh, leaned over and told him just how she planned to “get to it” with him.

  He could feel his cheeks redden as she pulled away, but that didn’t stop him from lifting his hand and saying in a voice that cracked, “Check please.”

  They’d been inseparable ever since.

  She hadn’t had an easy time of it in her forty years either. When he told her about the accident and his estranged daughter, she looked at him very seriously and said, “Well that explains it.”

  “What?” he said and frowning.

  “Why you had the guard up. That’s it? I’d thought maybe you had something darker in your past. That I can deal with.”