Dante (Stone Society Book 3) (15 page)

Gingerly,
she sat up, allowing her stomach a chance to calm down. The thudding in her
brain would just have to wear off as the drug left her system.
Dammit.
You
stupid girl, you let your guard down. Now what have you gotten yourself into? I
swear to all that’s holy I will never, EVER set foot in Greece again. This
freakin’ place is CURSED!
  Even her mental chastisement hurt her head. The
tears slowly eased out of the corners of her eyes. Poor Connor. He had an idiot
for a mother.

With
no window or clock, Isabelle had no idea of the time or how long she had been unconscious.
She looked around the room, spotting her purse on the only piece of furniture
other than the bed. She padded over to the dresser and opened the bag. Of
course they had taken her cell phone. You don’t leave someone a way to
communicate when you freaking kidnap them! She was surprised to find the rest
of her personal belongings were still inside. Isabelle threw her purse on the
bed and looked around. Knowing it was futile, she tried the doorknob. Locked.

Hating
the unknown, Isabelle banged on the door. “Let me out of here!” She continued
pounding and yelling until she heard a key being placed in the lock. She backed
up, waiting to see who her captor was. Expecting Kallisto, she was surprised
when a handsome man stood in the doorway. Tall, broad shoulders, late thirties,
early forties at the latest. He was built much like one of the Gargoyles. This
man was not Stavros.

“Hello,
Isabelle. The yelling really isn’t necessary. We locked you in for your own
protection. Are you hungry, thirsty?” Even though he was pretending to be
hospitable, his demeanor gave Isabelle the chills. This man might be off the
charts handsome on the outside, but his insides were something else. She worked
around inmates, criminals who had done heinous things. They at least had a
small amount of humanity left in their gaze. This man had none. No, he was
evil. She felt it seeping out of his pores. “I am still recovering from the
last drink I was offered, so if I decline, you’ll have to understand.”

“That,
too, was for your safety. If you knew your final destination, let’s just say
some might be inclined to torture the information out of you.”

“Who
are you?” Isabelle stared at the man, studying his features as if they would
give away his secrets.

“That
depends. If you behave, I am your host until I have no further use for you. If
you give me trouble, I will be the one to sell you to the highest bidder.” His
body was blocking the doorway; his stance was one of a man who relished a challenge.

“Where
is my son? Where’s Connor?” Isabelle was beginning to shake.

Smiling,
the man said, “Right where he is supposed to be.”  The look on his face
verified her earlier suspicion; she was an idiot, and she was never seeing her
son again.

“Life
as you know it is over, Isabelle. I suggest you get used to the idea.” The door
closed, the lock turned. She was a prisoner, and absolutely no one knew where
she was.

Gregor
and Tessa’s talking woke Dante. There was only one bedroom on the plane, and
Dante had insisted they take it. The leather sofa was comfortable; still, his
sleep had been dream riddled and fitful. Usually, he didn’t remember his dreams,
but those he had during the night were as clear as if he were watching them on
a television screen. One dream didn’t bother him at all. It was a sexual romp
with Isabelle after their date. Instead of walking her to her door, he bent her
over the hood of his car. His hands slowly pulled her black dress up her legs,
leaving her beautiful ass on display for him. She had on thigh highs attached
to a garter, with no panties in sight. He had taken control, commanded the
scene, dictated the moment. Being in control had been the most erotic moment of
his life. Too bad he didn’t feel that way when awake. The idea of over-the-hood
sex, he assumed, stemmed from their James Bond conversation.

The
other dream, the one that wouldn’t let go of his attention, was causing his
heart to ache. In this dream, a small boy with brown hair and chocolate eyes
was calling to him. “Please come for me, Da” was on repeat in his head. Dante
knew in his heart this was Isabelle’s child; this was Connor. Was he calling
out to Dante, or was he calling out for his real father who was dead?

“Hey,
Brother, you okay?” Gregor was holding a cup of coffee out in front of Dante,
looking concerned.

“Thanks,
and yes, I’m fine. I just had a really weird dream, and I can’t shake it.” He
took the coffee from Gregor and sipped it, hoping the caffeine would kick in
soon.

“You
do work in a morgue around dead people. I would imagine you have lots of weird
dreams,” Tessa said, sitting in the chair across from him, pulling her legs
underneath her, sipping her own coffee. Dante noticed Tessa sat that way all
the time. Did Isabelle sit that way? Did she get comfortable wherever she was?
Was she comfortable now? Or was she being drugged and tied up?

“Actually,
I rarely remember my dreams. I have been a coroner for so long being around the
dead has no effect on me whatsoever. It’s the way they died I tend to
contemplate on. The bodies brought into the morgue have more often than not
been murdered. It’s hard to comprehend how life is so meaningless to some.”

“Says
the man who hunts down Unholy and slaughters them.” Tessa raised a challenging
eyebrow.

Dante
looked to his brother, “Have you not explained to her what it is we do?”
Returning his gaze to Tessa, he said, “We do not hunt Unholy just to kill them.
We gather them up and put them in the Basement. It is true some die in the
fight, but those are the ones who are trying to kill us and give us no choice.
Self-defense is always a valid excuse for killing.”

“So,
you’re saying you’ve never once taken to the skies with the intent of taking
out a few of the bad guys? Just to release some stress?”  Tessa looked between
Dante and Gregor. What could he say? Of course he had.

“What
he’s trying to say, Red, is there’s a difference in killing an innocent and ridding
the world of a few monsters.” Gregor leaned over and kissed her lips. Dante
knew a diversion when he saw it.

“How
close are we?” He was ready to be on the ground, putting some type of plan in
motion.

“About
thirty minutes. The villa is free, so we will set up base there. Also, Rafe
called, wants you to look at your phone. He sent you a drawing.”

Dante
pulled out his phone and opened the attachment. “Did he say what kind of draw…”
Dante’s voice trailed off, stunned, as he examined the image. “Where did this
come from?”

Gregor
held his hand out, and Dante passed his phone over. Tessa leaned over to view
the drawing with Gregor.

“Holy
shit! Is this a family portrait? I didn’t think you knew the kid, Dante,” Tessa
said as she zoomed in on the picture. “Where did Rafael get this?” she asked
Gregor.

“Rafael
said Connor’s room was full of drawings, sketches, and paintings. All of them
were this detailed. Some had been framed and hung on the walls. The boy is
beyond talented. Rafe was asking the same question Tessa is. Dante, have you
ever met Connor?” Gregor handed his phone back to him.

“Only
in my mind.” Dante told them of the dream he had during the night of a little
boy, one who looked just like the one in the drawing, calling out for his
Da
to come save him.

“That
is weird. What if the kid is psychic?” Tessa asked.

“Anything
is possible. Dante has his own abilities, so it is very possible Connor could
have as well. He does come from a strong line of shifters. Rafe wants you to
call him, Brother. You need to tell him what you told us.”

Dante
did exactly that. “Hello, Rafe. Before you ask, no, I have never seen Connor
before,” Dante told his brother before he could ask the burning question on
everyone’s mind. “Unless Isabelle somehow has a picture of me she has shown the
boy, I have no idea how he drew the likeness.”

Rafael
offered the same excuse Gregor and Tessa had. “Unless he has psychic abilities
also. I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told anyone else. Shortly after
I met Kaya, I was in the garden meditating. My subconscious pulled me deep, and
I met a small child. A boy. He called me Papa. Once I came out of my session, I
didn’t think anything about it. Not really. Not until it happened a second
time. Kaya had been abducted by Alexander, and the boy told me to go get her.
Brother, I honestly believe I was communicating with my child. If my unborn son
could reach out to me, is it so far-fetched your mate’s son could feel you? We
don’t know much about the half-bloods, but we do know they come from the
Original line of shifters. That’s some mighty powerful blood. So who’s to say
the children won’t be powerful as well?”

“I
have to say, I agree with you. I had a dream about Connor last night. When I
woke, I didn’t know it was him, just that he had the same features as Isabelle.
Now that I have seen the drawing, I know without a doubt it was him.” Dante was
a believer in the unexplainable. He experienced it on a daily basis as part of
his genetic makeup.

“Then
use this to your advantage. Meditate. Tap into your subconscious and reach out
to the boy. He may be special in the same way you are, or you may only be
connected through Isabelle. Either way, give it a try.”

“I
definitely will. And Rafe, thank you for sharing about your son.”

“You’re
welcome. Listen, I wanted to let you know I’m calling Jonas. I’m giving him a
heads up about Isabelle and ask if he has any idea where Alistair would be
holed up.”

“Things
are a bit rough between Isabelle and her parents, but I agree they should be
told, regardless of how she feels about them. Keep me posted.” Dante told his
brother they were landing soon and would speak again later.

Knowing
about Connor eased the ache in Dante’s chest. If the boy already thought of him
as a parental figure, it would make the transition easier when they were all
home safe. He would do everything in his power to make that a reality.

As
soon as Dante hung up, Gregor relayed Julian’s information. “Isabelle’s phone
went off grid about an hour ago. The good news is the tracker Tessa put in
Isabelle’s purse is still active, and he has a bead on her. The bad news is she
was taken to Poros. It’s a relatively small island, but one that is heavily
guarded and private. It was bought by a private investor about thirty years ago.
Jules is researching the owner now. Poros isn’t close to Zakynthos, where we
assumed she would be taken. We need to decide if we want to stay on Atokos, or
get closer to Poros.”

“For
now, let’s proceed to Atokos. I would like to shower and change clothes. I am
anxious to find her, but I don’t want to run around half-cocked either. The more
I think on the situation, the more I feel Alistair is behind all of this. If
Stavros had known about Connor, he would have come after him before now. The
timing is too coincidental.”

Gregor
instructed the pilot to land on their small island. Dante called Julian and
told him of their plans. He asked his cousin to research the Stavros family and
send everything he could find to the office computer at their villa. Every
property the Society purchased looked like vacation villas on the outside. Each
was luxurious and accommodating for the most frugal traveler. Hidden interior
offices were set up with state of the art computer equipment, satellite phones,
medical equipment, extra clothes, and panic rooms. Each property could be used
as a safe house.

Within
an hour, Dante, Gregor, and Tessa were settling in at the villa. It was a
beautiful home that had been transformed from a hotel. Tessa was entranced by
the place, taking in the view of the beach from the floor to ceiling windows. She
grinned at Gregor, “Maybe we can come back here sometime, you know, just the
two of us?”

“Anything
you want, Red.” Gregor wrapped his arms around her as they took in the view
together. Dante wasn’t jealous. Not really. He was happy for his brother. He
would be lying, though, if he said he didn’t feel a longing to be just as
content.

The
family who took care of the property greeted them and asked what items they
needed before leaving them to their privacy. Dante headed to one of the suites
to take a quick shower. His mind was reeling from his worry for Isabelle and
Connor. Now that he had dreamed of the boy, he felt a connection with him. He
wanted to study the information Julian was sending, but before he did that, he
was going to take Rafael’s advice.

He
stepped out of the shower and dried off. The clothes he had asked for were laid
out on the bed. When he was dressed, Dante walked out onto the balcony of the
suite, allowing the saltwater air to fill his senses. The sounds of the waves
floated on the breeze. He sat in one of the chairs, closing his eyes. For a few
moments, he thought of nothing but the waves rolling in and out. A random
seagull cry echoed through his consciousness, harmonizing with the tinkling of
wind chimes that were hanging on the balcony above his. He allowed his mind to
envision Connor, the version of the boy as he’d drawn himself, holding onto
Dante’s hand, looking up at him as if he were a hero. Dante looked down at the child
as he had been in the drawing, smiling back at Connor.

The
small hand squeezed his, the smile disappearing. Connor floated away from
Dante, the room growing dark. The boy was lying on his side, his hands tied.
His mouth was covered in duct tape. Dante’s heart squeezed tightly, aching as
he looked around the dark room, searching for any type of clue as to where the
boy was. Nothing. The walls were stark with no windows. One door led into and
out of the small space. Connor was in a closet of sorts. Dante reached out for him,
but his hand found only mist as it moved straight through to the other side of
Connor’s body. Of course Dante’s non-corporeal body couldn’t touch the boy’s.
Connor.
Connor, it’s Dante, can you hear me?
Dante tried several times to speak to
the boy. When he was about to give up, chocolate eyes opened, looking around the
room.

Connor
can you hear me?
Connor continued to squint into the darkness.
Don’t be afraid, Connor. I’m
coming to get you. Just hang on.
The child squeezed his eyes shut, a small
sigh escaping from his body. Dante opened his eyes. “Hang on, Son. I’m coming
to get you.”

Even
though it was heartbreaking, it had been the single most exhilarating
experience of Dante’s life. Knowing Rafe had made contact with his unborn son
through meditation led Dante to believe what he just experienced had been real.
While it could be wishful thinking on his part, he knew in his soul he had made
contact with his future son. He blinked back the tears forming in his eyes.

Dante
gave himself a few minutes to think about what just happened before making his
way to the office. He was ready to see what information Julian had found on
Isabelle’s former family. When he looked at the monitors, files were already
coming in. Most of the information was public knowledge: articles from
newspapers, spotlights in magazines. The Stavros family was beyond wealthy.
Dante began familiarizing himself with names, faces, known properties. The
information he really wanted was the data Julian would have to hack into to
retrieve. Gregor and Tessa, having also showered, came into the office carrying
sandwiches and drinks. They would eat while going over the intel.

“So
that’s what Alexi looked like,” Tessa said, pointing to a computer screen.
“Wow, he looks like a real douche.”

Dante
was surprised by her assessment. He looked at the man on the screen. A very
handsome man. No wonder Isabelle had fallen for him. “What makes you think he
was a douche?” Dante asked Tessa.

“Look
at his eyes. They’re flat. There’s no emotion, almost evil looking.”  Tessa
studied the article. “That can’t be right. This newspaper is dated last year.
Holy fucking hell. Isabelle’s husband is alive.”