Darkest Desire (24 page)

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Authors: Tawny Taylor

BOOK: Darkest Desire
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Not the CIA.
And evidently not the Chimera either.
A moment later, two more men entered, carrying buckets of water.
With Talen bound, his head held in place so he couldn't turn away from the torrent, one of the men began pouring water onto his face.
Holloway turned to Malek. “One word. Say one word and we'll stop.”
Malek bit his tongue and jerked his gaze away from the screen.
“Really? You're that much of a sissy that you can't watch what
you're
doing to your brother?” the asshole said.
Him?
He wasn't the one dumping gallons of water in Talen's face. It was them. Those fucking bastards doing it. Torturing his brother. But he did feel guilty for being such a chickenshit. He dragged his gaze back to the screen.
Damn, that was a lot of fucking water.
They were still pouring a steady stream in Talen's face. And Talen wasn't lying still anymore. He was jerking, arching his back. His fingers were curled into tight fists. His survival instinct was kicking in.
Holloway hit the button on the phone. “Phase two.”
The man stopped pouring water. The others, who had been holding Talen down, released him and moved back cautiously. Still wearing the hood, Talen hacked and sputtered and gasped, the sound hitting Malek in the gut.
“It's unfortunate we have to bring your wife into this, but we're talking about national security, Mr. Alexandre. We must get some answers. But the good news is, once you've told us what we need to know, you'll be free to leave. With your wife. No one will bother you again.”
And Armageddon would begin.
Hoping the bastard was bluffing about Lei, Malek remained silent.
Holloway hit his little remote and all hope vanished.
Lei was lying in a room that looked a lot like the one Talen was in. She appeared to be sleeping. Just the sight of her, so still, so vulnerable, made his heart jerk in his chest. No matter what she'd done, he couldn't hate her. Even if she'd delivered both him and his brother right into this bastard's hands. Even if she had done the worst, pretended to love him to gain his trust.
He loved her. He would die for her. End of story.
His hands ached with the need to touch her, his arms to embrace her tiny frame and cradle her to him. The instinct to protect her was almost overwhelming.
“She's a little sleepy,” Holloway said. “She has about ten minutes before it's too late.”
He wasn't one hundred percent sure what that meant.
A knock sounded on the door.
Holloway shouted, “Clear.”
The door opened. One of the men who'd been restraining Talen set an amber plastic pill bottle on the table in front of Malek. The agent slowly turned it until the label was facing him.
It was his prescription. There'd been at least twenty pills in that bottle last time he'd checked. It was empty now.
But would they force her to overdose? Wouldn't it have been easier for them to inject her with something?
“We found the bottle in her hand. She left something else.” The agent handed him a piece of paper.
Right away, he recognized her handwriting. It was not a forgery. It read:
There have been a lot of things I've regretted in my life. But this one horrible mistake has left me with nothing. No hope. No love. No future.
Malek's insides twisted.
“She told us she took at least twenty pills and has refused treatment. Give us the information we need and we'll make sure she lives.”
Shit. This was an impossible choice: between duty and love. He bit back a curse and let his head fall forward.
He might save her life if he told them where The Secret was hidden. Might.
But once The Secret was unleashed upon humanity... nobody could be saved.
“I get the feeling you've made a decision?” the agent asked.
He nodded.
“Will you save her life?”
“I will,” Malek said.
Relief flickered across the agent's face. He pulled up a chair and sat, leaning forward. “Okay, so where is it?”
Malek shook his head. “I wish I could help you, but I can't.”
Into his phone, the agent said, “Phase three.”
The lights went out.
23
H
er head was going to explode. She was sure of it. And her stomach.
Oh shit, she was going to be sick.
A wave of overwhelming heat crashed through her system. Instantly, her entire body covered with sweat. Her throat constricted and she heaved. Nothing came up. Nothing. Her mouth was dry. Her eyes were blurred with tears.
Why the fuck was she still alive? Why?
The creak of a door opening made an explosion of white light flash behind her closed eyelids. Next, she heard the slow, steady tap, tap, tap of footsteps.
“How are you feeling, Mrs. Alexandre?” It was a woman's voice. A kind one. A nurse?
Lei pried her heavy eyelids up, squinting against the horridly bright light that was melting her retinas. Her gaze hopped from the woman's face to her arm—restricted and an IV tube taped to the inside of her elbow—to the bed's safety rail. She tried to talk, but no sound came out.
“You had a very close call,” the nurse said as she fussed with the IV bag hanging at the head of the bed. “Your husband is going to be happy to hear you're conscious.”
“Husband?” Lei repeated.
“He's been waiting to see you.” The nurse gave her a pretty smile as she hung a fresh bag next to the empty one. “You're a lucky woman. He didn't leave your side, not until I finally insisted he get something to eat. He was this close to passing out.” She indicated a fraction of an inch with her finger and thumb. “He'll be back in a moment.”
A knock sounded at the door, and a pair of men dressed in suits came into the room. She didn't recognize either one, but immediately she assumed they worked for Holloway. Like Holloway, their eyes had an eerie, almost inhuman darkness.
Her body was instantly coated in sweat again.
“Hello, Mrs. Alexandre,” the taller of the pair said, stepping up to the bed. “How are you feeling?”
Like he cared. “I'm tired,” she croaked.
“Yes, I'm sure you are.” His smile was broad, but it was far from genuine. Like a crocodile's grin—all teeth, no feeling. “We will make this as quick as possible.”
“Okay, Mrs. Alexandre, I'll be back in a little while,” the nurse said as she headed toward the door.
Now she was alone.
Barely alive.
And staring into the eyes of monsters.
She watched the man warily as he pulled a chair up to her bed. Next, he poured some ice chips into a paper cup and scooped some into a plastic spoon, offering them to her.
“No thanks,” she said.
“All right.” He set the cup of ice chips on her tray and wheeled it into position so she could reach it herself. “Now you can help yourself.”
“Where am I? What's going on?” she asked, her throat burning with each word. Why she was so hoarse, she didn't know for sure, but she could think of a possibility or two. The last she remembered, she'd been lying in the bed she'd shared with Malek. Her body had felt so heavy, as if it was made out of concrete. She felt herself suffocating. Everything going black.
“We have some concerns about your husband,” he said, ignoring her questions.
“I don't know anything,” she said.
“We need your help.”
Shoot me now
. “Agent...?”
“Ewoldt.”
“Agent Ewoldt, first, I don't know anything about anything. And second, I am almost certain my husband hates me after what happened. Really, I'm useless. You should have left me where I was.”
“You're wrong. It's quite clear from his response to your suicide attempt that he still cares for you. Very much.”
“Either way, I can't help you. There's nothing I can do.”
“There is,” he said, enunciating every word very carefully, “and we expect you to do it.”
“Or else another girl will die?”
He didn't speak, but that didn't mean he didn't say anything. Oh no, his message came through loud and clear.
“Bastards.” Tears gathered in her eyes. This was so unfair! They'd used her, made her lose everything that mattered, and then when she'd tried to end it all forever, they'd dragged her away from a peaceful end back into hell. What had she done to deserve this? What? “I've lost everything because of you and some stupid artifact. Everything. Maybe I don't care anymore.”
He pulled out his phone. It was one of those big smartphones. Touch screen. He poked at it a few times, then set the phone on the tray in front of her.
She refused to look. She knew whatever he was about to show her wasn't going to be pleasant. “I would strongly suggest you watch,” Ewoldt said, his voice cool, his tone clipped. “It's not one of your whores.”
She couldn't stop her gaze, it snapped to the phone.
She sucked in a breath. On the screen was Rin, strolling up to a pretty house in a country-like setting. Lei had seen that house before. It was the one they were staying in right now. The bastards had found her.
“She's looking very well,” Agent Ewoldt said. “She has a certain
glow
about her. Wouldn't you agree?”
He knew Rin was pregnant.
“Is there any low you assholes won't crawl to, to manipulate people into doing your dirty work?”
He tsked. “I believe you've jumped to some hasty conclusions.”
“You know that's a lie. Hasty conclusions. What a joke.” She forced a few mirthless guffaws out to illustrate her point. “Before I agree to anything, where are Kate and Heather?”
Ewoldt shrugged. “I assume at home.”
“They're not dead?”
“Not that I'm aware of.” He picked at a fingernail. “We decided to take our investigation in a new direction.”
“Then who was the dead girl most recently found?”
“I don't believe she's been identified yet. We have no interest in that case, if you get my drift.”
She got it, all right. The dead girl, if he was telling the truth, wasn't anyone she knew. “And speaking of murder, what about the murder charges?”
One brow rose slightly. “What murder charges?”
“Holloway told me I was being framed for Eve's murder.”
“I believe the Ann Arbor PD has taken their investigation in a new direction as well.”
That was a small relief. Kind of. She hoped that didn't mean someone else, someone innocent, wasn't being framed for the crime. “So, what do you want from me now?”
He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “We don't want anything from you, Mrs. Alexandre.”
“Riiiight.”
“We have your husband in custody. But we would be willing to bring him here to talk with you.”
“And you're doing that out of the kindness of your hearts?”
“You could take it that way.”
She rolled her eyes. “What do you want me to say?”
“I'm not going to tell you what to say. But if you would like to see him free, and your sister safe, all he needs to do is tell us where he has a certain item hidden.”
“Ah, so you haven't been able to get him to talk?”
Ewoldt said nothing.
“Maybe that's because he doesn't know? Or maybe there's no such thing as whatever that stupid thing is called.”
Whatever it was, they were pretty damn desperate to get their hands on it. Desperate enough to have innocent women killed. And if they would kill innocent women, what else might they do?
She glanced down at his phone again. The video of Rin was still playing. She was working in a garden now, on her knees. Sunlight flashed blue in her dark hair as she bent down to dig a hole in the earth.
If she didn't help them, Rin and the baby could die.
“What if he doesn't know anything about it?” she asked. “What if there's no such thing?”
“We have proof of its existence. And we have further proof that your husband and his brothers are in possession of it. But we've already searched their property in Ann Arbor, as well as the house out here. It isn't in either of them. None of the brothers has bank deposit boxes registered in their names. No commercial properties. No other real properties either.”
That wasn't true, but she wasn't about to tell him that.
“I'm telling you, my husband has never said anything about a secret relic, about hiding something. I'm not convinced he knows anything about any such thing. He's a writer. His brother is a jewelry maker. And his other brother...? Well, I have no clue what Talen does. Maybe you need to ask him.”
“We believe all three brothers know about it. We believe they are the entity that's known as the Black Gryffons.”
“Black Gryffons? This whole thing seems too ridiculous. Like some silly game or movie.”
Ewoldt hit the button on his phone, pausing the video. “Where do you think those people get their inspiration? Reality can be stranger than fiction.”
“So I've heard,” she mumbled, staring at the image of Rin. She seemed to be staring right at the camera, as if she knew she was being filmed.
“Can we count on you?” he asked, palming his phone.
“To do what?”
“Talk to him.”
“I'll talk to him. But that's as far as it goes. I'm not lying anymore. And I'm not keeping secrets.”
“Of course, you'll tell him we're watching?”
“Of course.”
Ewoldt stood and put his phone to his ear. “Bring him in.” He strolled toward the door, stopping before exiting. “I know you don't believe what I've told you, but our country's safety is in your hands, Mrs. Alexandre. Every man, woman, and child will benefit once we have the relic in our possession. But if we don't... and it falls into the wrong hands...” He shook his head. “Those films you saw of the nuclear fallout in the former USSR will look like Disney films.” He left.
Lei's hands shook as she grabbed the cup of ice.
Malek's heart thumped hard against his breastbone as he fought to take in a deep breath. He knew what the bastards were up to, that they were making him see her, be near her, so he'd be more vulnerable. Dammit, the sons of bitches knew exactly how to manipulate him. And of course, they were making it out like they were doing him a huge favor by letting him visit her. Like it was some extraordinary kindness. A goodwill gesture.
Standing outside her room, waiting for Holloway to remove his handcuffs, Malek struggled to think of what he'd say to her, how he would warn her what would be coming next without them knowing. She'd tried to kill herself once. Clearly, she didn't care if she lived or died. But that didn't mean she was ready to face what those heartless bastards would do to her when he refused to cooperate. He couldn't imagine watching her be tortured.
Holloway jerked his head toward the door. “Have a nice visit.” He sneered and gave Malek a little shove.
Malek sucked in a breath—which hurt like a sonofabitch—let it out, and opened the door.
She was lying in a hospital bed, looking small and defenseless and vulnerable. Her head rolled to the side. A soft smile pulled at her lips. “Malek.” Her face was pale. Her hand shook as it lifted, fingers curling around the metal and plastic safety rail.
His gut did several somersaults. “Lei. Oh, dammit.”
She blinked several times, and with each blink, her eyes became redder. “Malek, I ... I don't know what to say.”
“No, don't.” He hurried to her bedside, took her little hand in his, and brought it to his mouth. He brushed his lips over the back, then, unable to stop himself, flattened it against his mouth and shut his eyes. He focused on the scent of her skin, the softness. How could he hold those sensations inside forever? So he would never forget how she smelled, how she tasted, how she felt? His eyes burned. His nose was running. He sniffled.

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