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“Celia?”
“Where is she?”
My father appeared confused, opening and closing his mouth several times. “I don’t know. I swear to you.”
“God damn you. If anything happens to my sister, I will fucking kill you with my bare hands! Give me your keys!”
“I don’t understand.”
“Give me your goddamn keys.” I’d called Amber to pick me up from Roselake and to her credit, she’d been a trooper, but I refused to involve her in this. She would be in too much danger. “Now!”
He tossed me his keys, still shaking, still having difficulty breathing. “You don’t know what is really happening. You could be in danger.”
“Oh, I think I do, Father, and I’m going to end this nightmare. We’re long past the point of my life being threatened.”
I rushed out of his office and the house, refusing to look back. The moment I started the engine on my father’s massive SUV, I pulled out my phone. The fucker had one percent left. I slammed my hand on the steering wheel several times, rolling out of the driveway and praying to God I wasn’t too late. As I dialed her number, I held my breath. When I got nothing but the damn voicemail, I talked quickly.
“Celia. Listen to me. Get the fuck away from Zane. He’s going to hurt you. Go anywhere and just stay there until—”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
“Damn it!” The battery was completely dead. No. No.
Whether or not I believed in the bullshit regarding the Wolfen didn’t matter. Zane had decided to use the fucking legend to benefit his own greed. I was sick, unable to think clearly except for one thing. I would save my sister.
I pressed down on the accelerator, not caring in the least about obeying the traffic laws. I knew that Zane would use her against me, furious that I’d sought help. Protected. I’d been protected while my sweet sister had lived with the enemy. Oh, God. Oh… God. Tears formed in my eyes and no matter how furiously I wiped them away, they continued to roll.
I was desperate, screaming at anyone who got in my way and when I finally rolled down her street, the screech of the tires actually gave me comfort.
Her car was in the driveway. Thank God. Thank God! I pulled the SUV to the curb, jamming the gear into park and not bothering to cut the engine. I was taking her out of here. As I raced to the door, I felt a presence behind me and managed to draw my weapon. “Fucker. Get the hell away from me.”
The laugh was dark, laced with danger and the moment I turned, I…
* * *
Ping. Ping. Ping.
“Mmmm…” I took a deep breath, trying to move my arms at the same time. What the hell? I struggled, doing everything I could to open my heavy eyes. There was limited light and I had difficult focusing. After blinking several times, I realized I was in some kind of a cellar or basement, the sweeping cold I could feel all the way into my bones.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
I shifted again, finally realizing that my wrists had been tied behind me. A slice of fear crept into my system and when I was finally able to focus, I realized where the sound was coming from. Water dripped off the ceiling, splashing down on the concrete floor. What the hell happened?
As the disjointed memories began to settle in, I bit back a moan. I’d seen little other than a rag smashed over my face. Where the fuck was I? I struggled, realizing instantly that I wasn’t getting out of my bindings. There was almost nothing to indicate where I was, except that I was located partially underground, the limited light coming from two very small windows over my head. From what I could tell, the cavernous area was large, the ceiling fading into the shadows.
The only thing I could see given the darkness was a couple of steel shelves. I kicked out, attempting to move forward. Whoever had kidnapped me had another think coming if they believed I was going to give up that easily. When my foot hit something, a clang of metal made me wince.
I took a deep whiff, trying to calm my nerves. That was the moment I realized I wasn’t alone. I gathered a scent of another presence lurking somewhere in the darkness. “What do you want?”
There was no sound for a few seconds then something that sounded like a scraping noise. Like claws being scraped across the cold, concrete floor.
I refused to cry out, merely attempting once again to scoot away from the wall. “You don’t scare me. I’m not buying the bullshit you’re feeding the public. There are no such things as boogeymen.” I laughed finally, thinking back to the conversation with my father. He’d been terrified, fearful of whoever was putting the screws to him.
Had he really not known about the murders? I had no way of knowing nor did I want to learn the truth. He was my father, the man who’d at least given me a sense of pride about my family. I stared into the near blackness, trying to ascertain if there was anyone hiding in wait. Maybe I was just hearing things.
My answer was almost immediate, the slight huffing noise following by another series of scraping noises.
“Come out. Come out wherever you are.”
