Clive clears his throat. “Just got a text from the two hired muscle outside your mom’s room. Everything’s been quiet, and your mom’s watching Law & Order.”
With a shudder, some of the tension leaves Evianna’s body. “Oh, thank God. And they’ll stay there?”
“She’ll have round-the-clock protection until this is over,” I say. “These guys are ex-Israeli military. Meanest fuckers on the planet—unless you’re under their protection.”
With a chuckle, Clive agrees. “Eitan already texted Yosef to bring your mother a chocolate milkshake when he comes on duty.”
Evianna’s delicate snort settles me, as does the relief I hear in her voice. “Mom always has been persuasive.”
“Ready, darlin’? The sooner we get this over with,” I lower my voice and brush my lips to her ear, “the sooner we can get back to the hotel.”
“Hey!” Wren’s voice says in my ear. “Your comms are hot, boss.”
“Shit. Sorry, Wren.” Unfolding my cane, I feel out a semi-circle in front of me. Clear. “We’re going in now.”
When we step off the elevator, one floor above Evianna’s offices, the heavy bass beat of the music sets my nerves on edge. “Wren, can you hear us over this shit?” I murmur as I angle my head towards Evianna’s.
“Loud and clear, boss.”
“Evianna!” a booming voice calls from a few feet away. “We were getting worried!” Her boss, Noah, claps me on the shoulder, and I jerk back. “Dax, was it? It’s Noah. Evianna’s boss.”
His voice is unnaturally loud, even with the volume of the music in the room, and I grit my teeth. “I’m aware, Noah. Next time you want to say hello, do it with your voice, not your hand. And I can hear you just fine.”
“Boss,” Wren says in my ear, “calm down. You’re supposed to be playing nice.”
Evianna angles her body between me and Noah. “Plumbers are notoriously late, Noah. I had to wait almost two hours for the guy to show up. My basement’s a mess.”
“Well, you’re here now. Have some champagne. You too, Dax.”
“In a few minutes,” Evianna says. “Ulysses and Cyndi did a great job. You’d never know this place was empty three days ago.”
“Absolutely not.” The words come a little slower, a little softer, almost like he’s distracted. “I should mingle,” he says and brushes past me.
His cologne carries an odd scent. Familiar. Unpleasant. “I don’t like that guy,” I grumble as Evianna wraps her arm around my waist.
“He’s a jerk, but I think he’s harmless. He hired me. Paid for all my moving expenses from San Francisco to Boston…hell, he bought extra insurance coverage when Mom was diagnosed so I could get her into a better facility.” Evianna guides me across the room, towards bright lights that make my eyes hurt.
“What’s in front of us, darlin’?” Turning towards her, I adjust my glasses, hoping to stave off my headache until the end of the party. I’m no use to anyone if I can’t concentrate.
“The bar. Well…one of them.”
“And a disco ball? Or strobe lights?”
Evianna picks up on the strain in my voice and locks her arm through mine. “Let’s go to the other one. Across the room. Barry’s over there. We’ve butted heads off and on this whole project. He’s one of three employees Noah hired before me. Well, the only one left.”
“Who were the others?” I keep my eyes mostly closed as she leads me across the large space.
“Sundar and Raja. I don’t remember their names anymore. Sundar took a job at Google not long after I came on board, and Raja moved back to India after a family emergency.”
We have to stop four times before we reach the bar, and Evianna introduces me to some of the developers who worked on Alfie’s code. Most are already tipsy, but friendly, and I shake hands, try to make jokes, and listen to Wren and Evianna’s running commentary about the layout of the room.
High-top tables are spread around the edges of the large space, but there’s a dance floor in the center, and a long table off to the left with a very large sheet cake surrounded by gift bags.
The pop of the Champagne bottle makes Evianna flinch, and I give her hand a squeeze. “Relax, darlin’. We should get some food, see if we can find a free table in the back. Let people get used to us standing in one spot. Then, we’ll leave our glasses and plates, maybe even your purse. Like we’re coming right back.”
She presses a glass into my hand, and when we find a table, I nuzzle her neck. “Noah rubs me the wrong way. And Priya is nervous about something. Lauren idolizes you, and Barry is drunk off his ass.”
“I hired Priya. She’s the sweetest woman you’d ever want to meet,” Evianna replies. “And I’m pretty sure Barry was drunk at 10:00 a.m.”
“Is anyone watching us right now? Be my eyes, darlin’. Check the whole room. Slowly. Try not to be obvious.”
“Noah’s chatting with Cyndi, his assistant. Barry and Walt are at the bar with the bright lights getting more beer. Priya and Alice are laughing over something.” She goes around the entire room, and I commit every detail to memory. In my ear, Wren asks the occasional question—last names, descriptions, how long they’ve been working at Beacon Hill.
For two hours, we try to slip away, but every time, one of Evianna’s coworkers comes up and engages her in conversation. I stick to our agreed upon story—I own a think tank a few blocks away, and we met at a single’s mixer three weeks ago.
Nursing my glass of Champagne, I long for something stronger. Having to wait this long sets my nerves on edge, and if we don’t get out of here soon, we’re going to lose our chance.
“Incoming,” Wren says. She’s watching the entire party through the small camera in my glasses, and two seconds later, Noah comes up to us.
“Evianna, we shouldn’t keep the troops waiting any longer,” he says. “You don’t mind, do you Dax? If I take your lovely date away from you for a few minutes? We only have the room until midnight, and we can’t cut the cake until after Evianna gives her speech.”
“Go, darlin’. I’ll be right here, watching you.” I grab her around the waist and haul her against me, slanting my lips over hers in a searing kiss. Just before I pull away, I score my teeth along the shell of her ear and whisper, “If I leave right now, he won’t notice I’m gone. I can be back before you’re done with your speech.”
Her fingers tighten on my arms, and I can feel her panic. “I don’t like it either. But you’re in a room full of people. With Wren in your ear.”
She’s pulled away from me, and I want to punch her boss in the face. Or maybe the balls. But as her warmth disappears from my side, she calls out, “I won’t be long, baby. If you can…get me another drink while I’m up there?”
“Break a leg,” I reply. As I turn, I murmur, “Good job, darlin’. Gives me an excuse to walk away. And you’ll hear me the whole time.”
“Wren? I need you.” My cane sweeps across the floor until I reach the elevator, and I feel around for the call button.
“Right here, boss. Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“No. It’s a terrible idea. But it’s been hours. I want to get Evianna the fuck out of here.” Finding the button for the fifth floor, I jab it with more force than necessary, then wince. “You’re going to have to guide me. I have no idea what I’m doing here.”
“I have her passwords. I can get you through this.” Wren’s voice holds an odd note, nerves, I think. Or maybe I’m projecting. The idea of leaving Evianna in a room with someone who wants to kill her makes my skin crawl, but I can hear her congratulating her team—though Wren’s turned down her volume a bit to avoid distractions.
The elevator doors slide open with a ding, and I take two steps forward, then turn around in a slow circle, giving Wren a 360-degree view of the room.
“Okay. You’re good to go. No one here. Head to your right, approximately thirty feet, and you’ll find a door with an electronic keypad lock.”
When my cane finds the d
oor, Wren blows out a breath over comms. “Okay. Enter seven-six-two-five-nine-one.”
The door beeps, and after a metallic thunk, I’m in.
“The server you want is all the way in the back. Be careful. It’s kind of a maze in there. Stick to the far left wall, and watch the cane.”
Evianna’s announces Barry’s promotion as I reach the back corner of the room, and in my ear, cheers and applause break out all around her. Noah’s voice cuts through the din, and his condescending tone bleeds through comms.
“I really don’t like that guy,” Wren says. “But he’s a flippin’ boyscout. Not even a parking ticket.”
“Wren, focus. Where am I going next?”
“Three o’clock. Take five steps in that direction, then you’ll find tall, metal server rack. The keyboard is on a tray approximately belt-high.”
She walks me through entering the password and navigating to the right directory, though the process is painfully slow, and by the time she tells me to take the USB drive out of my pocket, I’m ready to beat my head against the wall.
“The slot for the drive is on the front of the server. Seven o’clock. No…lower,” she says when I try, and fail, to find it.
“That’s not seven o’clock. That’s six-thirty.”
“Snack cakes, Dax. I’m doing the best I can. Ry’s been at the warehouse training all damn day, I have both you and Evianna in my ear, and I’m walking a blind man through how to break into a secure server.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just…on edge. I need to get back to Evianna.” Finding the slot, I plug in the drive and breathe a sigh of relief.
“She’s fine. Now type exactly what I say.”
In less than five minutes, the trojan is running, and I grab the little USB drive, tuck it back into my pocket, and head for the door. “Wren, tell Clive we’ll be on our way out in five. And turn up Evianna’s comms again.”
“Got it, boss,” Wren says as I close the door to the server room behind me.
But a second later, the comms go silent. “Wren?”
Pain explodes along the back of my head, and I fall to my knees. Another blow catches me in the ear, and my entire world fades into nothing.
32
Evianna
I can’t make my way out of the crowd surrounding us, and the music’s so loud, Dax and Wren have only been a low murmur in my ear for the past fifteen minutes.
Noah presses a glass of Champagne into my hand, then raises his own glass, and half a dozen developers, including a very drunk Barry, do the same.
“To Beacon Hill and Alfie. May this be the first of many celebrations we have together,” Noah says, and I force down a single sip of the drink while scanning the room for Dax.
“Excuse me for just a minute,” I say, finally fighting my way out of the circle of people. “I need to grab a bottle of water.”
Noah tries to stop me, but I’m just quick enough, and hurry towards the bar. “Dax? Wren? What’s going on?”
I can’t hear anything, and my heart threatens to beat right out of my chest. “Wren?” Snagging my purse from the table, I pull out my cell phone, but then a heavy arm drapes around my shoulders.
“Noah, shit. Don’t do that,” I protest, but he tightens his grip, and then I feel a pinch along my side. “Get your fucking hands off me.”
But when I turn to him, his face blurs slightly, and his voice is muffled, like he’s on a bad cell connection. “Come with me, Evianna. Time to get some air,” he says.
Air? I don’t need air. I need Dax. But my lips don’t want to move, and he leads me towards the stairs.
What…did you…do…? My head lolls to the side, and I think I can see Barry staring after us. “N…oah,” I manage. “I…”
“Be quiet. You’ve had too much to drink, and you need to sit down. It’s nice and cool in the stairwell. You’ll feel better in just a couple of minutes.”
No…I won’t…
I try to unlock my phone, but my fingers don’t want to type in the code, and then Noah snatches it out of my hand. As the gray metal door to the stairs clicks open and we spill out onto the landing, I stumble, losing one of my shoes. It makes a loud, clanging sound as it bounces all the way to the next landing, and I watch it fall, almost in slow motion. I can’t keep my eyes open. It won’t hurt to sleep a while. Alfie’s done. Released to the world. But Dax… Where’s Dax?
Have…to…find…him…
I’m moving. Floating. And then…I’m not.
Dax
I can’t feel my fingers. My shoulders burn, Where am I? Oh fuck. It’s dark…only a dull reddish glow from somewhere above me. Jerking my hands, I start to hyperventilate. No. Not this. Anything but this. My wrists are bound behind me, zip ties, I think. My ankles too.
A low moan escapes my throat, one I almost don’t recognize, except my cheek scrapes against the cold cement floor as my entire body starts to shake, and the sound changes pitch.
I can’t… this… no. Fuck, no. Struggling against the restraints, I rub my wrists raw, and the scent of blood burns my nose. My blood.
I’m cold. Back in Hell. Alone. “Ry…” I croak, my throat tight. “Help…me.”
As I try to sit up, my head spins, and then I’m down again, my temple smacking against concrete.
Evianna.
I’m not back in Hell. I’m…somewhere else. “Wren?” Pressing my ear to the ground, I curse under my breath. They took my comms unit. Of course they did. And my glasses. Fuck. My vest too.
I’m alone, blind, with none of my tools. And Evianna could be anywhere.
Pain consumes the whole right side of my face, the migraine turning my limited vision white, then I’m floating. Away. Somewhere I can’t feel anything at all.
The throbbing in my wrists registers first. Then my shoulders. The server room. I planted the trojan. But then…someone came. Hit me. Tied me up here. But where is here?
“Evianna,” I groan. The room is almost completely silent, just a low hum that seems to come from everywhere.
Focus, Holloway.
Inhaling, I try to find some hint as to where I am. It’s…stale down here. And musty. Like I’m underground. And then…there’s a hint of something else. Something…familiar.
Freesia.
Evianna. She’s here. Somewhere. I have to find her. But moving even a few inches takes everything I have. How long has it been? My mouth is bone dry, and between my shoulders and my head, the pain is almost too much.
“Keep moving, brother.”
Ryker. I’m back in Hell. Trying to stay awake when it’s cold enough I can’t feel my hands and feet. We’ll die of hypothermia if we fall asleep.
“Move your ass, Dax. Now.”
Freesia. A whiff of Evianna’s perfume brings me back, and I roll onto my stomach. I can do this. Find her. One inch at a time.
Evianna
My lids are heavy. Trying to force them open takes everything I have. And when I do…I don’t understand what I see.
Dark gray. Nothing but dark gray.
A dull scraping sounds behind me, and I whimper before I realize that might not be such a good idea.
“Evianna?”
Dax.
I shove up on an elbow, but the entire room spins around me, and I cover my mouth with my hand as my stomach pitches.
“Darlin’? I can’t see you. How far away are you?”
His voice is strained, and I fight against the urge to vomit as I turn over. “Dax!” Crawling over to him, I cup his cheeks, finding sticky, dried blood at his temple. “Shit. What did they do to you?”
“They didn’t tie you up.” With a groan, he struggles to rise, and I wrap my arms around him and pull him against me. “Fuck, Evianna. I thought I’d lost you.” He nuzzles my neck, and the gesture makes my eyes burn.
“You’ll never lose me,” I whisper. “I…lo—”
“No, darlin’. Not here. Not like this,” he begs. A single, hoarse sob stalls in his throat, and when I pull away, his pal
e blue eyes shimmer with tears.
“Yes. Here. Now.” I press my lips to his, fingers tangling in his shaggy hair. He kisses me back with such fervor, I feel it down to my toes. “I love you, Dax. I don’t know how we get out of this. But you have to know. I love you.”
With a guttural roar, his entire body strains, the muscles of his arms cording, and a sharp snap echoes in the dim room as he breaks free from the zip tie. Then…his arms are around me, holding me tight.
“I love you,” he whispers, over and over like a mantra. “I love you. I love you.”
33
Evianna
When Dax lets me go, the coppery scent of blood clings to me, and I scan his body. “Oh shit. Your wrists.”
“I’ve had worse,” he mutters, and bends his knees to feel for the zip tie around his ankles. “I need something for leverage if I want to snap these. Look around, darlin’. Tell me what you see. Where are we?”
“I don’t know.” My eyes don’t want to focus for more than a minute at a time, and I grab onto his arm as the room spins for a few seconds. “Noah…he did something to me. I’m…dizzy.”
“Evianna, take a slow, deep breath in. Focus on a point on the wall. Just one point. Release the breath for a count of six. One, two…”
By the time Dax reaches six, my heart has stopped hammering against my chest and we’re no longer on a tilt-a-whirl. “I’m okay. How’d you do that?”
He traces patterns on the back of my neck, and the slow, rhythmic motion calms me even more. “Training. Now what do you see?”
“It’s not a big room. Maybe…fifteen by fifteen. Low ceiling. There’s a stack of pallets in the back corner. The wooden ones. With slats. Flattened cardboard boxes behind them. Empty. It’s some kind of storeroom, I think.”
“Any of those pallets broken? Can you get me a piece of wood?”
“Maybe.” I crawl across the room, not trusting myself to stand yet. But all of the pallets are intact. I kick at them, thinking maybe I can break one of the planks, but then realize I’m only wearing one shoe.
Second Sight: An Away From Keyboard Romantic Suspense Standalone Page 21
