Forbidden (The Seeker Saga, #2) (2 page)

What started as an attempted friendship with her quickly spiraled out of control into a dangerous association.  But it was when he realized that she was the one he and his father needed that everything went to hell.  In the beginning, he had hoped he could still salvage his relationship with her
and
get her on their side. But, that type of thinking quickly proved naïve—mostly because of the decisions she had made.  Forgetting about him so many times, for one, and choosing dumb-as-rocks Rob over him, for another.  Tracy associated herself with Liz’s clique of girls when he directly warned her against it.  Those were the small things, of course, but they still contributed to the disgust that Chris felt whenever his thoughts turned to Tracy.

Worse was her betrayal of him.  He was sure she was the one who had maimed him during Liz’s rescue.  None of the other girls was strong enough to make the roof collapse as it had. 

Unconsciously, Chris hefted one shoulder.  Pain still radiated from the spot where his collarbone had snapped. However, at least he had regained some mobility in the arm over the past months.  He hoped it would continue to improve, but he would not bet on it.  The slab of rock that struck him caused the bone to snap at such an unusual angle that he would never again be able to straighten his back.  The rest of his life would be spent hunched over like a beggar – a permanent, horrifying disfigurement.  And it was all because of Tracy.

Hatred and shame roiled up inside Chris.  Hatred for what Tracy did to him, and shame for letting himself be vulnerable enough to let her do it.  What made it even worse was that, for a few days, before he had found out she was the one he and his father needed, he had actually felt like he
connected
with her on a level much deeper than any relationship he had known before.  That was what made her betrayal so bitter.

That was why, when the realization dawned on him of what the contents of the envelope represented, Chris did not feel a single tinge of remorse about it.  The bespectacled man on the ID card was his father, of course, and the card itself would provide
somebody
with full access to every building on Traven Island.  That, combined with the money and description of his father’s associate, left no doubt in Chris’s mind as to what he would be initiating tonight: a kidnapping to bring Tracy to them. 

But there were other factors at play.  His father had disappeared without notice.  Chris suspected it was to avoid meeting the associate himself.  Chris’s father never liked getting his own hands dirty.  Waiting here in limbo, in the dark, made Chris uneasy.  The man Chris would meet tonight was clearly dangerous.  Chris had little experience with dangerous men. 

A gust of wind rose behind him. It cut through the back of his coat like an icy blade.  An involuntary gasp escaped his lips.  All the heat of his body seemed to extinguish like a blown-out flame.  Chris did not know how much longer he could take waiting here in the cold.  The chill penetrated him to his very core.  He glanced longingly again at the cabin.  The light in the distance mocked him with a promise of warmth and comfort.  But Chris could not go soft.  Not now.  He would prove to his father that he was capable—

Without warning, Chris found his arm pinned against his back. Before he could even think to react, a cold, sharp object was pressed against the skin of his neck.

“I was told I would be meting a man,” a gruff voice whispered in his ear.  “Not a small child.”

Anger erupted within Chris, for being caught off-guard, and for the derogatory insult.  He started to move, attempting to squirm out of the hold, but froze.  He had caught a glimmer from the object at his neck, and knew it for a blade.  Chris had understood that the damn man would be dangerous, and, yet, he had let himself be caught by surprise like a fish in a net! 

Chris did the only thing left to do.  He let his muscles go limp, to show the man holding him he meant no fight.  A tense moment passed in which Chris’s thoughts roiled with the possibility that he had just given up his one potential advantage.  He was rewarded a second later as the pressure of the blade abated.  Slightly.

“Who are you, boy? Who sent you here to make a mockery of me?  I do not deal with children.”

Chris flinched at the inflammatory taunts, and ground his teeth to prevent himself from saying something stupid.  An encounter with a madman with a knife could go many ways, yet all but one would leave Chris dead.  Now was not the time to pick a fight.

“There is no… disrespect meant,” Chris said tightly, deliberately keeping his neck still lest the blade nick him.  “I am the son of the man you came here to meet.  I’m here on his behalf!”  Chris did not think now was the time to mention he had been here for the better part of three hours, waiting on this encounter.

“Is that so?” the man asked, strengthening his grip on Chris’s arm.  “And why is he not here to greet me himself?  Must he send the dog to do the master’s dirty work?”

Another burst of anger surged within Chris, but he restrained it as much as he could.  This was the time for caution, not haste.  “My father had to go on important business that could not wait,” Chris lied.  “He left me with everything he had ready for you.”

“Where is it?” the man asked.

“In my left coat pocket,” Chris breathed.  “An envelope inside.  It contains everything—”

“You will reach in with your free hand,” the man said softly, cutting Chris off, “and pull out the envelope.  You will then drop it to the ground, and return your hand to the side.  If you try anything else, if you make any sudden movement, you will find your throat cut open, and your
father
will come back to find you little more than fodder for the wildlife.  Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Chris whispered. He was shamed again when his voice broke.

“Good.  Now, go!”

Very carefully, and very slowly, Chris reached into the pocket that contained the envelope.  His heart froze when his hand found nothing there. 

Panic swelled inside him.  All his awareness turned to the blade against his skin. 
This
was going to be it.  This was going to be the end.  He would have his throat cut open by his father’s hired assassin, and nobody would know about it for weeks.  It was a pathetic way to go. 

Shame consumed his entire being, until even the panic he felt paled in comparison.  The worst of it was that he had let his father down.  He had screwed up at the very moment his father needed him.  And he would pay with his life.  Chris closed his eyes, ready for the cut along his neck that would send blood spurting out…

Suddenly, the blade was gone, and Chris was pushed forward into the snow.  The man’s grip on his arm disappeared too. Chris did not have time to shield himself from the fall.  He went face-first into the snow. An all-consuming cold greeted him on the ground.  The ice quickly filled the contours of his face, fell to his neck.  What little heat was left in his body was gone in a flash. The shock of the cold left him numb.  

It took Chris a few seconds to process what had happened.  When he did, however, he wasted no time in pushing himself up.  Snow slid down his back, but he did not care.  He was still alive!

Why had the man had released him?  Chris spun around quickly. His eyes came upon the shadow of the man.  He was standing a good twenty feet away now.  Chris cursed under his breath. There was no way to see his face.  Anger burst within him for the humiliation he had suffered.  Chris vowed on the spot that this man – this anonymous man – would face the consequences of what he had just done to him.  It would be better if he could attach a face to the voice, though.

The man held up a dark hand, and in the moonlight Chris recognized the rectangular shape of the envelope.  He had managed to swipe it from Chris’s pocket without him even knowing!  This was just a game to him!  The realization fueled the anger Chris felt, but at the same time, a begrudging sort of respect tried to weasel its way in.  The man had made a fool of Chris, but he had proved his own prowess in the process.  Chris shut those emotions off ruthlessly.  This man was just another to add to the list of those who had wronged Chris.  His mother and Tracy Bachman stood at the top of that list. But, there were plenty more from Oliver Academy who had treated him badly.  In the end, they would pay for what they had done.  But… not yet.  Chris could be patient when it suited him.

“I was told this would be sealed.” The man’s voice carried well over the distance.  “How do I know the right amount is inside?”

“You have my utmost assurances,” Chris replied smoothly.  As smoothly as he could, given the circumstances.  “If you doubt my word, I invite you to come up to the cabin, where you can count the denomination in the light.”

“I thank you kindly for the offer,” the man said with a derisive sneer, “but I would prefer to retain my anonymity.”  He tucked the envelope into his jacket.  Chris had to admit that the man had a particular grace about him.  Every movement he made was both deliberate and delicate.  That eased his mind somewhat.  The man his father found was as capable as any for the job. 

“So you trust me, then?” Chris asked carefully.  “If that is the case, maybe you will appreciate my warning.  There is a picture of a girl inside the envelope.  Your target.  She may be young, but she is more dangerous than she appears.  Do not underestimate what she can do.”

Another sneer greeted him.  “You think you can tell me how to do my job, boy?  All you need to worry about is whether your
father
really did place the right amount inside.  Because if he didn’t…” the man’s warning trailed off. The meaning was obvious.  “If he didn’t, well, I know exactly where to find you.”

The man turned and started for the trees.  Chris took a deep breath.  He needed something confirmed, but if he guessed wrong, he would have his father to answer to.

“Wait!” Chris exclaimed.  “One more thing.  You are to bring the girl here…”   He was not quite sure how to frame the question.  The man stopped, but did not answer.  The lack of a response confirmed Chris’s suspicion.  His father
had
ordered Tracy’s kidnapping, not her murder.  That suited their purpose much better.  But Chris had his own desires.  He was taking a chance.  What he said next could put him at risk with his father.  “We are paying you to bring her here, yet… accidents do happen.  Above all else, you must not be found out.  A single error on your part would jeopardize everything you are being paid for.  If, by some twist of fate, circumstance calls for it…” Chris inhaled deeply, “…and the only way for you to avoid detection is the girl’s untimely death…  Well, sometimes, death cannot be avoided.”

Chris held his breath and waited.  There was no reaction from the man for a long moment.  If word of this message got to his father, Chris could not imagine the consequences.  Had he been too direct?  Too forthcoming?  Too anxious?  Had this been the wrong way to proceed?  Just then, the man inclined his head slightly.

 “Death comes to us all,” he said prophetically.  He looked over his shoulder. The darkness that shrouded him still did not let Chris see his face.  “It is good to know where your priorities lie.  You can be assured, I will not be found out.”

With that, he turned and walked straight into the woods.  Chris watched the man until he was completely swallowed by the night.  He waited, counted to sixty in his head, and, satisfied that the man had gone, started the trek back to the cabin.  

Chris felt an unusual sort of pride well up inside him.  He had, in no uncertain terms, just commanded his first murder.  The first step of revenge.  It felt
cathartic
.  Of course, he knew the odds of the man showing up here with Tracy alive were much greater than him killing her, but the opportunity for the… unfortunate mishap… was still there.  Perhaps this man would exact Chris’s revenge for him.

He had first decided that death would be Tracy’s punishment on the plane ride from Traven Island.  It would be an unfortunate blow to what he and his father were trying to achieve with the crystals. Yet, Chris was sure there were others out there who could do what Tracy could.  Maybe not in the same capacity – likely not even close to the same capacity. But, Chris did not care.  So long as his father did not find out Tracy had been murdered because of him, her death would give him the ultimate satisfaction.

Chris found himself humming a familiar tune as he walked to his cabin.  He could no longer feel his feet in the cold. His toes may already have succumbed to frostbite, but he did not care.  Revenge was the only thing on his mind. What he had initiated tonight could see it come to fruition.  And best of all, just like his father, he did not have to get his hands dirty.  He could get used to living like this.