Finding Abigail (8 page)

She got to about three feet from the door when someone reached out and grabbed her arm.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” a deep voice asked as she thrashed, trying to get away from him.

Her heartbeat sped up, and tears filled her eyes. 

Damn it. 

She’d been so close. So freaking close.

The man pulled her back into the room and threw her to the ground. Pain ricocheted up her side when she landed funny, and she scurried back to the wall so she could put distance between her and the man who’d fill her nightmares for years to come.

That is, if she even
had
years to come.

“Who…who are you?” she asked, her voice a little too shaky for her own good. 

Her dress had ridden up so she was sure she was flashing the guy, and she tried to pull it down. She needed at least some dignity—even if it seemed false in every way possible.

The man looked down at her with his dark eyes and brushed his even darker hair away from his face. If he hadn’t had the expression of someone who was about to kill her, she may have even said he was handsome with those strong cheekbones and masculine jaw. But, the feeling of death seeping off of him and that tired fallen-from-grace look didn’t appeal to her.

No, the hunky sheriff who probably hadn’t even known she’d gone missing was what appealed to her.

Good going, Abigail
.

“My name is Aeneas,” the man finally answered. He said it so quickly that it rolled off his tongue as if he’d spoken in an ancient language.

Very, very odd.

Great, now she knew his name. But, how did that help her?

“I regret I had to take you like that, but plans had changed, so I had to make sure you were easy and reliable,” he said as he turned his back to her to close—and lock—the door, trapping himself inside with her.

Or should that be,
her
trapped with
him
?

“What are you talking about?” she asked. The man made no sense. But really, should a killer-kidnapper, or whatever the hell he was, make sense?

Why couldn’t she just be at home packing to leave?

“Ah, I see I’ve started from the middle when you’ve probably wanted me to start from the beginning. But, you see, that would take far too long for what I have planned for you.”

Planned?

Oh, God, that didn’t sound good. Not in any sense of the word.

“I see the fear in your eyes, Abigail. But, fear not, I’m not going to kill you.”

Relief spread through her for an instant before the foreboding crept in with the spindly tendrils of awareness. 

There were things worse than being killed.

Far worse.

“I’m not going to rape you either,” he said, even as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear that had fallen from the chignon he’d fashioned for her.

“Good to know,” she blurted out, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.

Great, antagonize the crazy man. Wasn’t that rule number seven or something of things not to do when kidnapped by an insane person? Or maybe it was number one. Whatever number it was, it ranked right up there with not running up the stairs from the crazy knife-wielding killer, and Abby wasn’t doing so well at the moment.

Aeneas smiled, showing his full set of very white teeth. Though they didn’t look like sharp fangs, she could just imagine them morphing into those before devouring her flesh.

Oh, that’s just great. Add another nightmare onto the living one she couldn’t escape from.

“Good for you. You should say what’s on your mind, darling. Hiding from yourself, as well as the town, for so long didn’t really do anything for you, did it? I mean, all those toys you have in your nightstand drawer were for naught, weren’t they?”

Abby’s eyes widened, and she swallowed the bile that had risen in her throat. 

Oh, God, how long had this man been watching her? And why did he know those intimate details of her life? No one knew, only her.

He’d said he wouldn’t rape her…but, what else did he have planned?

“I see I’ve surprised you. I think you need to know the whole story. But, first, I need to make sure you don’t get the idea to run away again.” He took out handcuffs from his back pocket and smiled. “Let me see your hands, darling.”

Abby hid them behind her back. There was no way she’d let him handcuff her to anything. 

No freaking way.

Aeneas glared. “Stupid bitch. You really think you have any choice in the matter? I was being nice to you because I didn’t feel like fileting your body in the delicious way it could be. Believe me, all those curves would lead to a masterpiece of precision cuts. Now give me your fucking hands before you make me lose my temper.”

Fear wound its way up her spine and threatened to choke her. Jesus, this wasn’t a man to mess with, no matter how nice he tried to smile and console her.

Shakily, she held out her arms, putting her wrists together so he could easily cuff them. He snapped one in place around her right wrist, tugged, and brought her hands above her head to secure her other wrist so that her hands were wrapped around the radiator.

Her pulse sped up as he traced a finger down her jaw. 

“I’m sorry to have to do this, like I said, but plans changed.”

“What…what plans?”

Keep him talking
. 

That’s all she had to do and maybe someone would come for her. Damn it, she hated being weak.

“Ah, you see, I’m Aeneas.
The
Aeneas.”

She blinked. That didn’t mean anything to her.

Aeneas—
the
Aeneas, whatever the hell that meant—gave a drawn-out sigh and threw his hands up.

“You damn Americans. How do you know nothing of your history? I’m Aeneas, the first put-upon man and victim of Cupid.”

Abby blinked again. Of all the strange things she’d heard in her life, that had been the craziest. And considering she was best friends with a witch and an elf, that was saying something.

“Cupid? Like
the
Cupid?” she asked, the fear of him staunching any humor that may have wanted to wind its way through her voice.

“Yes, the original Cupid. You know of Santa and his executives, well, Cupid has his own, but rather than call them something else, the narcissistic bastard just calls them cupids—little c.”

Where on earth was this going?

“I was Cupid’s first victim. He used me and…
her
to see if his arrows would work.”

“And did they?” she asked, curious as to why he wouldn’t say her name. The emotion he said it with lay heavily on him. She wouldn’t ask for the woman’s identity. Considering how he had her chained, it didn’t seem like a good idea to bring that up.

“At first.” He closed his mouth, as if sorry he’d said anything at all, even as his eyes stormed over.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Even though she didn’t know the whole story, something bad must have happened to turn him this way. 

Okay, now she was getting sympathetic for the man who had her cuffed. She needed therapy.

A lot of therapy.

Aeneas nodded then pulled something out of his back pocket.

Those tears that had finally stopped running came back in full force as she looked at the length of the blade in his hands.

“I…I thought you said you weren’t going to kill me.”

“I’m not, Abigail. No, I’m going to show that cupid of yours what it means to ruin my plans.”

Her body shook as he came near. She kicked out, but he grabbed her ankle. 

“Don’t even think about it.”

She pulled back, even as he came closer with the knife.

Something he’d said finally snagged on her brain. “Who are you talking about? Who’s my cupid?”

Aeneas gave her a truly baffled look. “Tyler, of course. He’s a cupid, one made to find the true loves out in the world and bring them together.”

Tyler was a cupid? Why hadn’t she known? 

Wait, those arrows. Now it made sense. But, what did that have to do with her?

“You see, I hate cupids. They’re fucking abominations. Because of them and the man who created them, I lost everything. Well, since I can’t have her, other cupids can’t have the ones they love.”

He thought Tyler loved her? No, that couldn’t be further from the truth. The man didn’t even look at her. Well, other than earlier when he’d asked her out after cutting himself on the arrow…

Oh, shit.

Aeneas slowly dragged the tip of the blade along her collarbone. She shuddered but didn’t move. No, he would hurt her more if she did because of the edge being so close to her neck.

Tears streamed down her face, even as she tried to be strong. He’d said he wouldn’t kill her, only wanted to show Tyler what it meant to change plans.

But, what plans?

She had to keep him talking.

“What plans?” she whispered, her voice choked.

“You see each cupid has a soul mate. It’s easy for me to find them since I’m an immortal, shunned by Cupid. The old bastard shouldn’t have done what he did.” Aeneas glared as if he’d thought of whatever Cupid had done, and the knife pressed harder into her skin.

The pain flared as the blade cut through her skin, the warm droplets of her own blood forming their own tears down her chest.

It hurts, oh, God, it hurts
.

“You know, blood is of the heart. A true Cupid in that respect. Not anything like the bastard and his progeny.”

He cut again. And again. And again.

Each time, the pain flared, and then she blocked it out. She had to. She’d live, he promised, but how?

The blood seeped into the dress he’d put on her and pooled on the floor. Her body shook, but she hadn’t lost that much blood. Not yet.

When he finished, he pulled back and wiped the blade clean on her dress. Fiery pain raged through her as the cuts pulled with each breath.

“You need to see, Abigail. Your blood will show the cupids that they can’t win.”

The man, or immortal, or whatever the hell he claimed to be, was crazy.

He drew back and walked to the corner and pulled something out she hadn’t seen him place there before.

An arrow.

But, not like Tyler’s.

No, these were black with crimson-red tips.

“You’re a cupid?” she asked, her words slurred with pain.

“No, never. Mine don’t show you your true love. No, they take away the one thing that makes you…you. With each cupid, I hit them when they least expect it, and I take away the ability for them to see their own true love. They go through life ignoring them until eventually they lose them altogether. It should have worked, but then you cut Tyler with his own arrow, negating my magic.”

He traced a finger along the outside of one of her cuts, and she screamed out in pain.

“You made me so angry, Abigail. Now I have to punish the both of you. When I hit you with this arrow, you won’t lose Tyler. No, that’s not the thing that makes you…you. I’ll take away your kindness…your sweetness. Tyler won’t want you when you’re a harpy.”

“A…harpy?”

“Yes, I can see the beauty in you, and I’ll take that and drain it from you. You’ll live as a harpy for the rest of your years, and Tyler will want nothing to do with you. You’ll both go through life alone and in pain. Something all cupids deserve.”

She didn’t even know what a harpy was beyond what she’d read in some novels. He couldn’t really do it…could he?

Aeneas walked back and pulled out his bow, put the arrow in its place, and shot.

The arrow didn’t hurt…no, that wasn’t it.

But as the magic spread through her, ripping away something she hadn’t known she cherished, she screamed.

Agony, sweet, sweet agony seared her.

And she was lost.

Chapter 7

Something was ringing, but Tyler couldn’t shut it off. He blindly reached out to try to turn it off but came up with only air. Hell, he’d have to open his eyes se he could find the damn thing. His eyelids were heavy, as if he’d had a long sleep that didn’t equate into the same amount of energy. With as much fight as he could muster, he opened his eyes and cursed.

How the hell had he fallen asleep in his living room on the floor? Make that the
very
hardwood floor. He shifted and groaned at the aches in his not-too-young body. He hadn’t done that since college when he’d drunk too much whiskey, trying to beat his brothers. That hadn’t turned out too well for any of them. None of them drank whiskey anymore, and Jackson still paled at the thought of it.

Tyler didn’t exactly remember drinking, so that couldn’t be it.

He swallowed hard, trying to wake up, and winced. Fuck, why did his throat hurt?

Then it came to him.

“Abigail,” he croaked out, his throat too sore to do anything else.

Damn it, that man, Aeneas. He’d choked the hell out of him, forcing Tyler to pass out. And the bastard had Abigail. There was no telling what Aeneas would be doing…

Or…what if Tyler was too late?

No, he couldn’t think like that. Aeneas wouldn’t have told him about Abigail if there hadn’t been a chance he could save her. 

Right? 

Aeneas had said he’d taken Abigail so Tyler couldn’t have his true love…but that couldn’t mean it was the end.

It couldn’t.

If Aeneas hurt her because of him, he’d never forgive himself. She’d done nothing but exist and become the one he could finally see.

Tyler staggered to his feet and cursed. It wasn’t time for him to have a fucking pity party when his girl was out there, maybe in pain…maybe worse.

His girl.

As much as he liked the sound of that, he needed to worry about other things. Like where the hell Aeneas had her and how Tyler was going to get her back. 

That emotion he’d been hiding or missing or whatever for too long welled up in him and almost made him fall to his knees with the force of the blow.

Goddamn, he loved that woman. Her smile, her kindness, the way she put everyone first, the way he’d always felt like a better person around her but hadn’t even realized it.

He’d kill Aeneas for what he’d done.

Tyler and Abigail had lost so much time because of a curse Aeneas had put on him. But no longer. Tyler would find her and take care of what he had to.