Hunting Angel 2 (22 page)

I needed her.

Desperately.

Right now I would have given my right arm to see her, just one more time before I left this life, because surely this was the end. I had no plan. No means of escape. No one probably even knew I was missing.

Not true.

Chase.

He would have known something was wrong. I had to believe that he would have felt something. At the very least, he would have sensed that I was no longer near. For the first time, this soulbond meant something more than just a nuisance. It might save me. At least it gave me hope.

I’d barely had time to bask in the glow of being in love with Chase and now…

Would we ever see each other again? I was glad now more than ever that I’d actually had the gumption to tell him how I felt. It had surprised not only him, but me. Picturing his face, his silvery eyes, that impossible smirk, his dark and deadly voice, I missed him miserably.

My chest began to pang from being separated, knowing I was moments away from extreme panic. Memories of the woods, of voices, and the little tabby kitty I’d wanted to save came crashing back like a bad train wreck. I thought back, racking my brain for an explanation. I remembered someone sneaking up behind me. I remembered fighting and thinking if I could just scream Chase’s name, but I’d never gotten the chance.

I had been silenced. After that it was just blank, like a gaping wormhole. There were a few brief seconds where I remembered a nasty, rancid scent.

It must have been chloroform.

That explained the quick and sudden blackout. What kind of sick and crazy person would kidnap
me
?

Really only one name came to mind. Yet I was still having a difficult time believing that
this
was real. It was too much of a cowink-a-dink that I just so happened to know a girl who had been missing for year and out-of-the-blue returned. Now her one mission in life was to kill half-demons, moi included.

Deep down I really wanted to believe that the old Emma Travis loved, fought for, was still in there. However, under recent developments, I was going to have to think Chase might have been right all along.

Emma was gone.

And by gone, I meant in the sense that the person she used to be had taken a hike, checked out, gone over the deep end. She was a ticking bomb, a loose cannon, and utterly deranged. This was my professional diagnosis.

Slipping off the metal bed, I stood legs wobbly and shaky as they touched the concrete floor. I knew in the pit of my stomach that there was no feasible way out of this chamber of terror, but I had to try. Even for just that teeny, tiny sliver of a chance that maybe someone screwed up and I could escape.

Running my hands along the block walls for stability (I thought I might pass out again) and also to check for anything out of the ordinary. Like I knew what that would be. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t Agent Hotchner or Houdini. This wasn’t a video game. There was no restart. There was no do over. And I wasn’t an escape artist.

As far as I was concerned, this place was Fort Knox.

I pressed my palm against the frigid bars of my cell dejected, hands shaking. The distance between Chase and I had never felt so vast or dire. The aching in my chest started, telling me we’d been apart too long. It would only increase in tenfolds.

Gripping the bars with both hands, every muscle locked up. I felt claustrophobic and knew I had to get out of this room. I don’t know what came over me. One minute I was shaking from head-to-toe, the next I was rattling the bars and screaming at the top of my lungs.

All for nothing, except my throat was on fire, scorched and dry. I swear I swallowed blood. There hadn’t been a peep, not a single movement from anywhere in the vicinity. It made me wonder if I was in a padded room.

Just fan-freaking-tastic.

When it became obvious that no one was coming, I began to pace, which was quite difficult. There wasn’t much space and I ended more or less shuffling in place. Finally, I retreated to the bed with nothing else to do. Staring at the white walls, I figured I would go insane in a day. The least they could have done was giving me an Xbox, hell I would have even taken a Gameboy at this rate. Anything,

Pulling the quilt around me like a cape, I prepared myself for what would no doubt be the longest night of my life. The stark darkness of the evening filled the tiny room, except for the sliver of light from under the door.

The smell of the woods still lingered on my skin and painfully made me think of Chase. My chest ached in brutal pain, heavy with sorrow, fear, and missing Chase. I wished I could have seen the moon, the stars, knowing that he was out there under the same sky, frantic with worry for me. In a small way, it would have given me comfort, but in a windowless room, I had nothing but memories.

Curled on the small bed, I couldn’t hold the tears a bay any longer. The floodgates opened like the breaking of a dam. Fat tears spilled down my cheeks, soaking the pillow. But once I started, I couldn’t stop. My shoulders shook in time with my loud blubbering. An unflattering sob snuck out from my mouth and I sniffled disgustingly. Not only were my cheeks streaked with red-hot tears, snot was dripping from my nose.

On and on it went until there wasn’t an ounce of fluid let in me, just those clenching dry heaves that were doing a number on my tummy.

When the hiccupping sobs stopped, a deep ache settled into my belly and muscles. I clamped my mouth shut until my teeth throbbed, refusing to shed another tear for these assholes. Then out of the dark, I heard the unmistakable sound of keys.

Someone was unlocking my chamber.

Chapter 22

I watched in blunt fear as the lock on the heavy armored door turned and clicked. The unknown of whom or what was behind the door ate away my backbone. I had the urge to hide my head under the pillow, plug my ears, and hum a lullaby to myself. Anything to pretend this was all just a very bad and vivid dream.

Except this nightmare was the real deal.

A burst of light broke through the darkened room at the same time the metal door scraped over the concrete floor. Blinking several times, I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to make myself as small as possible in the corner of the bed.

It was pointless.

The bed took up most of the small space, and I was hard to ignore in my white long-sleeve shirt. It practically glowed in the dark for heaven’s sake. As my eyes adjusted, a profile of a woman began to take shape.

I expected to see the nasty Emma but the face that became clear was similar to Emma’s, older. There was a strong resemblance, different hair color. Hers was a pale blonde compared to Emma’s. But the eyes, there were unmistakably Emma’s. As green as summer grass, but they lacked Emma’s cynic nature. She looked so darn familiar, but I couldn’t place her face with a name. The woman was thin and had a soft, gentle smile on her lips, so opposite of Emma’s hardass persona. It felt false and out of place considering the circumstances. She carried a tray of food that made my stomach lurch.

Hello, I’m a prisoner
, my mind screamed. This wasn’t an extended vacation, and I hadn’t ordered room service.

There was nothing to possibly smile about. I wanted this woman to cut the bullshit and not give me any pitied smiles. It hit me then, why she looked so familiar to me. I’d seen this woman once before, outside the tiny dance studio in town. She had been with a little girl and her husband.

She was Emma’s mom.

It was a family biz after all, and yet I was stunned to learn that she was involved. I couldn’t see her as being the mastermind behind the madness. That had to be all Emma’s dad, who I yet to official meet.

No rush on my part. I would be just as content to never set eyes on the nutjob.

She walked just inside the doorway, blocking the exit. My eyes flickered to the opened door and all I could think was,
if I could just get through that door
. The only thing standing between me and my freedom was a woman at least twice my age and not bigger than a stick. She looked like a push-over, nothing I couldn’t throw my weight into.

“You don’t want to try that,” Emma’s mom warned in a quiet and calm voice, sad almost.

I stayed silent, just staring at her while my mind worked like a hamster wheel, spinning and spinning. Why shouldn’t I try to get free? I could totally take her. How much worse could it be outside these four walls?

She must have seen the doubt in my eyes. “I’m not alone,” she sighed. “There are men stationed outside this room. Do you think you can get past them all? Men trained, armed, and ruthless.”

My stomach dropped miles. My shoulders sagged. My eyes brimmed with hopelessness. “You’re Emma’s mom,” I said, surprised at how foreign my voice sounded.

Mrs. Deen’s whole face lit up at them mention of Emma. It made me wonder if she ever got to spend quality time with her daughter or if husband monopolized it all with his grueling-demon-hate training exercises to kill.

“I am.” She set the tray of food she’d been carrying on a tiny table right inside the door. Again, the sight of food made me what to vomit all over the pristine room. I averted my eyes before I emptied my stomach. “Here, I brought you something to eat. You’ll need to keep up your strength.”

“Strength?” I echoed, afraid of what she meant. They were just going to kill me in the end anyway, what did I need strength for? I wasn’t deluding myself to think that they weren’t going to hurt me. Emma had made it plainly clear that she wanted us dead. I would rather starve to death then lead Chase, Travis, or Lexi here. But still…“For what?” I couldn’t refrain from asking, my own rapidly progressing thoughts got the best of me.

Her green eyes got gloomy. “It’s not for me to say.”

I got pissed. “The hell it isn’t.”

Irrational anger was what it was all about.

My emotions were all over the place, turning fear into anger. Anger because she wouldn’t help me. Anger that I found myself locked up and alone. Anger because Chase wasn’t here…with me…for me. But at the same time I was eternally grateful that he wasn’t locked up with me, knowing that I didn’t have it in me to watch the guy I love lose his pride. His honor. And most importantly his life.

Chase would stop at nothing to protect me, even if that meant giving up his own. Possibly even giving up the lives of those he loved the most. He might not have said that he loved me, but I knew in the deeps of my soul the lengths he would go to protect me, and that had to mean something.

Now, as I found myself in a modern day dungeon, those three little words I longed to hear didn’t seem as important as just being close to him, or keeping
him
safe for once.

Mrs. Deen’s haunting green eyes captured mine. “It will be worse if you fight them. Worse for you both.”

Both
.

I got dizzy and sunk back down on the bed with my head between my legs.
Both
. Echoed over and over again in my head, and the tribal mark on my hip went tingling.

Chase and I.

This wasn’t just about me.
Duh
. I was just bait, the booby prize. What they really wanted was Chase.

And that wasn’t something I was willing to give up, not to save my own neck, not even to spare my own mother from the pain of losing me. Chase had already done so much for me. I owed him this and so much more. My only regret was I wouldn’t be able to see his face one last time, kiss those heavenly lips good-bye.

A single tear ran down my cheek. I didn’t even have the energy to wipe it away. Why bother?

She left shortly after that, locking the metal door behind her and submerging me to darkness. As soon as I heard the click, I lost it, like going-out-of-my-mind-koo-koo. Throwing myself against the door, I beat my fist on the immoveable door, screaming for her to help me. For anyone to help me. Begging someone to help me. With a fiery, swollen throat and now cut and bleeding fists, I sank to the stony floor, weeping uncontrollably.

And to think I thought I’d already wasted all my tears, but here they came again. I’d be dehydrated in no time. How much puffier and red could a person’s eyes get? I probably looked like an over rip raspberry.

Wracking with sobs, I couldn’t help wonder if she was as much a prisoner as I was? And honestly I sat there, bawling my eyes out speculating if her situation was direr than mine. She was living with the enemy, sleeping with the enemy, nurturing the enemy.

I on the other hand, had the bitchin-of-all-half-demons on my side. And you can’t forget the little tidbit that we were soulbond. If anyone was going to come out of this predicament, it was going to be me.

Fact.

Now I just had to start believing it.

What worried me most was not if I would be rescued, but what could happen to Chase. The longer we were apart, the weaker we both became. So that meant my part demon better-half wouldn’t be at full capacity either.

That plain out sucked some serious ass.

Somehow I ended up falling asleep. My body was fried worse than a blistering Malibu sunburn. I had no idea how long I was out, but I woke up instantly alarmed with a hair curdling feeling chasing over my skin. My body went rigid as I lain as still as possible, listening.

I definitely wasn’t alone.

Gathering enough courage to open my eyes, I saw a glint of something shiny. Confusion clouded my brain as I slowly recalled this terrifying horrible dream I had. But when eyes focused on a face that looked an awful a lot like Emma’s dad, my heart plummeted.

He was leaning against the wall peeling a red apple with a very sharp and dangerous looking knife. Dressed to the hilt in black cargo pants, black t-shirt, and black combat boots, he looked like he had just finished an operative mission. All that was missing was a smear of black war paint under the eyes. Something told me he probably had gallons of the stuff in his garage. If he was going for the whole intimidation route, it was totally working.

I was quaking in my fuzzy socks.

Closing my eyes, I tried to pull myself together before I fell apart, which was the exact last thing I wanted to do in front of
him
. I didn’t want him to think that I was weak, or that I was going to break easy. I wanted to be brave, strong, and indifferent to his sick little games.