Lisa Jackson's Bentz & Montoya Bundle: Hot Blooded, Cold Blooded, Shiver, Absolute Fear, Lost Souls, Malice, & an Exclusive Extended Excerpt From Devious (215 page)

“Made with?”

“Gin, vermouth, cranberry juice, and just a hint of grape juice.”

“No real blood?” Kristi asked.

“Sorry,” Bethany said, one side of her mouth lifting. “The board of health frowns on that.”

“I imagine.”

She glanced at Trudie and Grace. “Refills?”

Trudie shook her head. “I’ve got to get to the theater before Father Mathias has a heart attack.”

“You’re in the production, right?” Kristi asked.

“Trudie’s character is Death,” Grace said, and Marnie nearly choked on a sip of her drink.

“Fitting, isn’t it?” she joked.

“Whatever.” Trudie finished her drink in one swallow and grabbed her purse.

Bethany was still waiting, and Grace said, “Why not? And make mine a double.”

“Are you crazy?” Trudie said, horrified. “You have to go to the play!”

“I know, but I already saw it.” Both Grace and Marnie seemed amused by Trudie’s concern, as if they had already swilled down several drinks. “I know the whole gloomy plot.”

“I’ll be right back with those,” Bethany said, heading to the bar.

“Why go to the play again?” Kristi asked.

“Required.” Marnie picked up a few peanuts from the dish at the center of the table and tossed them into her mouth.

“It’s required to see the same play twice?”

Trudie glared at Grace, willing her to shut up. “Not if you’re drunk, it isn’t.”

“Oh, get over yourself, ‘Death,’” Grace said, and she and Marnie laughed uproariously.

Trudie, flushed, muttered, “Screw you, bitches,” then swept through the surrounding tables in outrage, nearly running into a busboy with a tub of dirty dishes.

“She’s pissed,” Marnie said, and they laughed again.

“You know,” Kristi said, as someone changed the music from hip-hop to country. A Keith Urban ballad could barely be heard over the conversation, “I almost believed you. About the drinks.”

Marnie exchanged glances with her friend, then whispered barely loud enough to be heard, “Grace wasn’t lying. We doctor ours.” To prove a point, she actually pulled a small dark bottle from her purse, then surreptitiously unscrewed the lid and added a few drops of dark liquid to her glass. “It’s kind of salty.”

“Like a margarita,” Grace chimed in.

“Yeah, right.”

Grace shrugged, as if she didn’t care what Kristi thought, and took a sip. Either the two friends were certifiable, or they’d decided to have a little fun at Kristi’s expense. Kristi didn’t comment, but waited for her drink as the music changed again. There was a loud eruption of noise at the nearby pool table when one of the players missed a shot.

A few seconds later, Bethany returned, left fresh drinks, and swept up the empty glasses.

Marnie reached into her purse again and lifted her eyebrows, offering a bit of the “blood” to Kristi. Though she wanted to appear to be part of their group, Kristi wasn’t about to drink down some concoction of unknown origins. She shook her head. Besides, both Marnie and Grace were already acting so giddy and drunk, Kristi wondered if whatever they were putting into their drinks might be a street or prescription drug that enhanced the effects of alcohol.

“Come on, Kristi. You’ve been asking all the questions,” Grace said. “Don’t you want Marnie to add a little bit of real blood?”

“Nah. Got too much to do tonight.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing.” Marnie shook several drops into her drink, then some into Grace’s as well. Lifting her glass, she said, “To vampires,” her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“To vampires,” Grace agreed, clinking her glass to her friend’s.

Kristi hoisted her stemmed glass. “To vampires,” she intoned, and they all took a sip.

The drink was strong, tasting of cranberry and gin, warming its way down Kristi’s throat. Marnie and Grace giggled all the more and licked their lips. They acted like they really believed in the vampire stuff, or at least found it incredibly hilarious. Kristi watched them as she sipped her drink, then put in casually to Marnie, “I thought I saw you go into Wagner House the other day.”

Her own words “other day” seemed to reverberate a bit, and Kristi looked around toward the band, wondering about the sound. And was that right? Was it the other day? Or, had it been at night? She couldn’t seem to rightly remember. “It was after hours,” she added, for clarification.

“Really?” Marnie’s smile wobbled a bit…looked like a snake crawling across her lips. A blood red snake. No, it was just her lipstick running…or…?

“We all go there,” Grace said over the loud music, and she seemed to be having trouble staying on her chair.

“Yeah, we meet there.”

“We’re meeting at Wagner House tonight.” Grace again. “Maybe you’d like to come.”

Grace’s words sounded funny, as if coming through water. And her image kind of wavered. Feeling uncomfortably warm and off balance, Kristi licked her lips and tried to respond but the words felt stuck in her throat.

“Oh, God, it looks like the drink really hit you hard.” Marnie seemed concerned. “Let’s get her out of here.”

“I’ll pay,” Grace said, and flagged over the waitress…what the hell was her name? Bethany…the girl in Grotto’s class…She came over in a hurry and they began talking together. They grabbed Kristi under her arms and helped her toward the door. Lord, she was drunk, her legs hardly working. She heard phrases like, “Can’t hold her liquor…we’ll get her home…”

But that wasn’t right.

She’d been drugged. She knew it.

Somehow, someway, they’d slipped something into her drink and she’d been foolish enough to have trusted the waitress. Damn it all…

No one in the bar seemed to notice as she was hustled out a side door and into the dark, cold night. She tried to yell, but no words came, and when she managed to fling one arm out, nearly swiping Grace’s chin, the other girl laughed it off.

She looked like just another wasted college girl.

Now what?
she thought, but even as the words crossed her mind they escaped again. Her mental acuity, at least for the moment, had disappeared. Blackness pulled at the corners of her consciousness and she thought she might pass out.

Don’t! Stay awake! You have to keep your wits about you!

“Here ya go,” Bethany said, opening a door as the two other girls guided her outside, keeping her moving while her own legs became less and less steady.

Outside the air was crisp, in stark contrast to the thick, noisy, warm atmosphere in the bar. “We’ll take it from here,” Marnie said.

“I’ve got to get back inside….” Bethany, sounding pissed.

“If anyone asks…” Grace’s voice, as if from a distance.

“I know what to say. Just get her out of here now, before someone comes.”

Bethany had been the one to put something in Kristi’s drink.

Fool! You knew she was in Grotto’s class as well!

She tried to yell, to call for help, but only the smallest sound escaped her lips.

The door slammed behind them and Kristi realized she was being held between Marnie and Grace and she couldn’t move at all, couldn’t command her muscles to do what her brain was asking.

For the other girls, all the joviality, the silliness of the evening, seemed to have worn off.

“Stupid bitch,” Marnie said, forcing Kristi along a dark alley. “Stupid, snooping bitch.”

“You want to know about vampires?” Grace asked as Kristi’s dread increased. “Believe me, tonight, you’ll learn.” She grinned down with a malice so cold Kristi’s heart quivered. Behind her braces, just barely visible, were a set of glistening white fangs.

Kristi blinked again, tried to scream, made one last attempt to kick out at the two girls dragging her down the alley, but she was helpless as a kitten. Her limbs refused to move, her voice was mute, the world distorted, blackness threatening to overtake her.

She thought they’d shoved her into a car…but she didn’t know if that was right.

She was lying across a backseat, headlights flashing on the ceiling of the car, Marnie and Grace in the front seat. Was Trudie dressed as the character of Death, with her in the back? Or, was it Bethany?

Her mind spun and, try as she might, Kristi couldn’t find reality. Jay…oh, God…she thought of Jay. Where was he? Had she told him she loved him? And her father…was he alive? Hadn’t she seen Rick Bentz’s face in black and white?

Where the hell was she?

She blinked and realized the car ride, if that’s what it was, was over. She was being half dragged again.

Where were they taking her?

What did they have planned?

The chapel bells tolled loudly…so close she knew they were on campus…. She blacked out for a second—or was it longer?—only to realize that she was alone.

And she was naked.

Lying on a couch of some kind.

A mist rising all around her.

How the hell had this happened? Her mind began to clear a bit, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t open her mouth to speak. There was a red light, basking everything in an eerie, reddish glow. She searched the area she could see, but aside from the ever-growing fog, she could make out nothing above or beyond this velvet-feeling couch upon which she rested.

How had she lost her clothes?

Was this a dream?

Vaguely she remembered being in a bar, sipping blood red drinks, talking and laughing with girls from her classes…who were they? Grace, yes, Grace with the spiky hair and…and oh, right, Marnie, the blonde. She thought she’d been so clever, trying to win their confidence and now…oh, God now…how was she going to get out of this?

Think, Kristi, think! Don’t give up!

Closing her eyes, she strained, attempted to move her muscles, but nothing happened. No response. She was trapped here.

She heard the scrape of a shoe, a little sniff.

She wasn’t alone?

Where? Where were they? She tried her best to see, but beyond the veil of the fog, there was nothing…not a damned thing.

Panic shot through her. Her mind, clearing, began to think. Obviously she’d been drugged, but certainly it would wear off. This paralysis couldn’t be permanent.

Or could it?

New horror shot through her.

With supreme effort, she tried to raise her arm and though she strained, willed her heavy limb to move, it remained still and lifeless.

A tiny cough.

Reminding her that she was being viewed.

Laughed at.

Goddamn it, Kristi, move your damned arm!

Again she tried, pushing so hard inside she thought she might explode.

Nothing happened.

Oh, God, help me. Help me!

Her heart pounded erratically, spurred by adrenaline, echoing in her ears. This is what had happened to the missing girls, she was sure of it, just as she now believed for certain that they were dead.

And, she, too, would soon be.

Unless…

With all her might, she strained to move her muscles but nothing happened. The footsteps were louder now, echoing through her brain.

Slow.

Steady.

Approaching.

She tried to turn her head as the red light pulsed, a visual interpretation of her heartbeat.

What
was
this?

Again, she attempted to look over her shoulder, to force her immovable head to turn. She felt the slightest response, as if her shoulders had shifted minutely. Or was it her imagination? A hair’s breadth shimmer in the cool air. Digging down, she tried again.

Nothing happened.

But she wouldn’t give up. Damn it, she would fight as long as there was a whisper of life in her.

“This is Sister Kristi,” a deep, male voice intoned.

She knew him! The voice was familiar. She just had to think, to place it. Why was he introducing her? To whom? She forced her gaze to the blackness beyond the shifting veil of smoke and fog but saw nothing. She sensed that there were more than one person hiding in the shadows, as if there were onlookers, an audience.

Her blood ran cold as death.

Audience! Dear God, that was it!

This was part of some macabre show!

Sweet Jesus, she had to get out and get out now. He was so close. So familiar, yet her mind couldn’t grasp his name. She felt him stand behind her and a hand slid onto her bare shoulder.

She experienced a tingle.

Oh, how sick!

Strong fingers trailed along her skin.

What was this? A seduction? Onstage with who knew how many people staring on? Or maybe he was just the first of many…. Kristi’s guts revolted at the thought and she tried to cringe, to draw away.

“Sister Kristi joins us tonight willingly,” he said with conviction.

Willingly? What?

Couldn’t they see that everything he was saying was a lie, that she was a prisoner in her own paralyzed body?

Of course not, Kristi. Remember: they want to believe.

“She is ready to make the final, ultimate sacrifice.”

Her mind flew to all kinds of torture, of rape, of death. Ultimate? As in final? Jesus, was he going to “sacrifice” her right here? Slit her throat like a sacrificial lamb? She struggled with all her might.

To no avail.

His fingers moved sensually against her skin and she felt her body responding. Oh, God, this was so sick, so damned sick! He had the gall to touch her breasts, to watch her nipples respond and she knew in that second, if given the chance, she would kill him. Despite the desire starting to pulse through her body. She would. She would kill the sick bastard!

He was leaning downward now, his breath ruffling her hair as his hands slid lower and harder.

If she could kick. Could bite. Could spit in his face. Who was he?
Who?

She felt her head rotate a bit, almost of its own accord, and in that moment her eyes met his, and she stared into the dark eyes of Dr. Dominic Grotto.

Grotto…

Kristi fought to scream and flail, to hit or recoil, but she remained motionless.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Sorry? For what? Let me go, you miserable son of a bitch!

He leaned closer, his breath as hot as all the fires of hell, his lips curling back to show off his fangs, bright and glistening in the thin red light.