The Mark of Cain (20 page)

After walking through a white marble foyer that was
off to the side through a door near his cars, they took an elevator to the top
floor, which lit up only after Inac had put a key in the slot next to it as
well as used a pad thingy to scan his fingerprint.

“Wow. It’s like Fort Knox,” she said without humor.
She was still too dazed to find anything humorous.

He smiled. “I have a lot of valuables here. At the
moment, it’s my main residence.”

“So your ‘valuables’ move with you?” It was a stupid
question, but still, it was all her brain could come up with.

“Of course,” he said, nodding. “They hold
sentimental value.”

The elevator opened straight into his apartment. At
least now she could see why he had to use a key in the elevator. It was, in
essence, unlocking his house.

“I’ve never seen a concrete house before,” she said,
as she took in the part she could see. From here, she didn’t see even one piece
of wood. All of the furniture was made of mirror-like metal and glass. At least
the charcoal cushions on the pewter couch looked
somewhat
soft.

“Do you have the whole top floor?” she asked.

As though it was no big deal, he only replied with a
terse, “Yup.”

She looked up at the ceilings high above her, the
pipes and vents visible. It was odd, and spoke of a cold person, but it was
somehow pretty. It was like an ice castle with all the mirrors and glass. She
could never live in a place like this. At least a few shaggy rugs covered the
black, shiny concrete flooring to give it a
teensy
bit of warmth.

“Would you like a bath?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. Can I have a cup of
tea first?”

“And then you’ll tell me what happened?” he asked
with sincere eyes. He was obviously extremely worried.

She nodded.

He kissed her on the forehead before saying, “Okay.
Why don’t you sit down and I’ll be back in a minute?”

She perched herself on the couch in what must be a
family room because a large flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall.

She could hear Inac on the other side of another
wall—sounds of water running and metal on metal—so she stood up and started
looking around at his things. On mirrored shelves were various items, not many
things that could be considered his “sentimental valuables.” They all looked
placed there by an interior decorator. Somehow, though, they still spoke of
Inac. There was a gun that looked like it was from the Civil War, as well as a
powder horn and a statue of some Egyptian God that both looked even
more
ancient….

“Here,” Inac said, walking into the room with a
steaming black mug. She met him halfway, abandoning the authentic-looking odds
and ends to take it.

“Thanks.”

He sat on the couch, gesturing for her to do the
same.

“So what happened?” he asked, his eyes dark and
intense as his jaw set into a tight line that just made him look even more
masculine than usual…if that was even possible.

Joining him on the couch—it was surprisingly more
comfortable than it looked, though anything over a couple of hours and she was
sure that her bottom would go numb—she said, her bare hand up in a pacifying
gesture, “It’s going to sound bizarre, but just hear me out.”

“I promise,” he said as he leaned forward and
lightly placed a comforting hand on her thigh.

She nodded before taking a couple sips of the heady
tea for strength. “Okay. So I was home when I realized that I’d left my phone
in my Ancient Civs class, so I went back to get it. When I was almost to the
door, I heard Track, which is weird because he doesn’t take any classes from
Professor Sampson. In fact, as far as I know, he’s never even met him.”

Inac was frowning. “What were they saying?”

“Track was talking about how ‘She was in deep.’ I
didn’t understand, but then Professor Sampson talked about how Track had been
brought in to ‘Keep her on the right path,’ as well as how angry he was that
Track hadn’t told him that ‘He’d found her.’ That they would’ve moved her if
they’d known that before he’d gotten his teeth in her.”

“And what did Tracker say to that?” His frown
deepened with every word she uttered until he appeared far older than his
years.

“Track said that it was more like he’d gotten his
tongue in her.”

“Hmm…. Did they say who they were talking about?”

“No. But then the professor got all mad, yelling at
Track for not doing his job; that now they wouldn’t ever be able to convince
her.”

“Convince her of what?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Then they
started talking about how this was five hundred years in the making and Track
had ruined everything by not telling ‘Them’—which he said like it was some
important person’s name—that ‘He’ had found her or whatever. Then the professor
started asking why ‘He’ hadn’t killed her yet because ‘He’ had been planning
exactly that for five hundred years too.”

She was starting to get upset again as she
remembered the words as though she was hearing them for the first time right
this moment. As a slight shiver ran down her spine, she added, “Track said it
was because ‘He’ wanted to play with her first. After that, they were talking
quietly, but I heard two more words before I ran.”

“What two words?”

She shook her head, her tears once again coming in
full force.

“Come on, Hara, what two words?” Inac pressed.

“‘Kidnap Anahara….’ Inac, I think they were talking
about you and me.”

***

Inac just looked at Hara in surprise, unsure what to
say. Luckily, she didn’t seem to notice his momentary reaction and kept going
on.

“I mean, they’re
crazy
. Why would you kill
me? If you’d wanted me dead, you would’ve let me get killed by that mugger. Or,
you would’ve thrown me into the ocean instead of teaching me how to swim. Or
even tonight, you would’ve let those guys rape and murder me.”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he lied, “but I know
that I don’t intend you any harm.” That part was true for today. But now he
had
to kill her. Those bumbling imbeciles had ruined
everything
.

“I know.”

“Why don’t I go talk to them? See what’s up?”

“No!” she cried, throwing herself into his arms as
though, if she let go of him, he’d leave her forever—such a typical reaction
for an orphan. “Don’t leave me!
Please
?!”

He pulled her into him and said in the most soothing
voice he could muster, “Okay, I promise.” After a few minutes, he pulled away,
rubbing at her tears and suggesting, “Why don’t you take that bath now and I’ll
make you another cup of tea?” He needed time to think. To plan his next move.

While he readied the bath, he found a T-shirt for
her to put on afterwards. He would have grabbed her a pair of boxers but, after
thousands of years of not wearing underwear, he wasn’t about to start wearing it
now. Then, once she was relaxing in the tub he personally liked to fill up with
scalding water before taking a deep breath and immersing himself in it until
the water went cold—
his
way of relaxing, and the whole purpose for the
bath in the first place—he put a call in to Santoni.

“Go for Santoni.”

“There are two men I need you to take care of. I
want them tortured in the Old Manner.”

He heard a gulp on the other end before Santoni
managed in a wavering voice, “Yes, sir.”

“And make sure they live through it for a few days.
Even if you have to give them an IV to accomplish that.” He really wished he’d
had that gift of modern medicine back when he’d mastered the Old Manner of
torture in the fifteenth century.

“Yes, sir.”

Santoni was scared. He knew that Inac only had
people tortured that way when he was extremely angry with them. Inac hadn’t
used it since he’d rid himself of Micah’s superior which, in turn, had given
the kid the responsibility of getting rid of Hara. It was the way he rid
himself of those who either betrayed him or pissed him off more than normal.

Inac hung up after giving Santoni descriptions of
the two guys as well as where they could be found. They probably wouldn’t go
near the gas station tonight after the glare he’d shot them, but he knew his
men would stay in the area at all times until they found them. He’d hung up
just in time because Hara came out wearing the black T-shirt. She looked
beautiful, like a fallen angel with her wet hair streaming down her back and
her long legs bare from the mid-thigh down.

“Here,” he said, handing her a fresh mug of tea he’d
put together with fresh herbs and flowers masking the drugs he’d slipped into
it. “Drink this.”

He then held her in his arms as they lay on the
couch together until she drank all her tea and fell asleep. Once she was out,
he picked her up and gently put her in his bed, tucking her hair behind her
ear. He then lightly kissed her brow before getting up, grabbing his keys, and
leaving. He had some daft members of The Order to talk to.

***

“That will work. I say we do it tonight before
he
finds out,” the professor’s voice said from around the corner.

Though Inac was angry that these imbeciles had
ruined his plan, he smiled and walked through the door. Because they were too
engrossed with papers on the desk in the front of the amphitheater usually full
of feeble little minds, the professor and Tracker didn’t immediately notice
him.

Pretending like he hadn’t heard them and knew
nothing about them being in The Order, he said, “Hey boys. What are you two
doing here so late?”

Both their heads shot up in surprise.

“I was just talking to Tracker here about a paper he
wrote,” the professor said as he quickly shuffled through the papers, obviously
trying to hide the real answer to Inac’s question.

“Were you?”

“Yup,” Tracker said, though he was extremely
nervous.

“The question is, Mr. Adamson,” the professor said,
“what are
you
doing here? And how did you get in? The building should be
locked by now?”

“Oh, it was,” he said, giving them a momentary smile
that he knew would appear almost animal-like with its ferociousness. Then,
before they would be able to contemplate what it meant, he replaced it with the
concerned grin of a boyfriend doing a favor for his woman. “I picked the lock
because I’m here to get Hara’s phone for her. She accidentally left it here,
but she’s had a
horrendous
evening so I thought I would help her out.”

“She’s with
you
?!” Tracker asked, unable to
keep his fear and disbelief from his tone or face—the kid really needed to
learn to hide his emotions.

“Indeed,” he said, almost with a courtly flourish.
“She’s asleep in my bed as we speak.”

“You!” Tracker yelled, running at Inac, his face
contorted with fury.

Inac held up both his hands in a calming manner. “I
didn’t sleep with her, if that’s what you’re freaking about,” he said to the
blonde whirlwind making its way toward him like an angry Tasmanian devil on
crack. “She cried herself to sleep so I put her in my bed. That’s all.”

Tracker stopped, concern in his unremarkable blue
eyes. But it was the professor who spoke next.

“What happened to upset her?”

Inac shrugged, loving this new twist to his game.
Some people were just so much fun to mess with. “Apparently, she came by to get
her phone and overheard the two of you conspiring.”

The color drained from both of their faces.

“You know,” Inac continued as he walked closer to
the boys, “you almost had me fooled, Professor. You had me second-guessing
whether or not you were part of The Order. But
you
, Tracker,” he said,
switching his gaze, “
you
I never would have guessed. Why did They bring
you
in? You’re not Their usual type.”

Neither one answered. Instead, the professor took in
a deep, noisy breath before he asked, “What did she hear?”

“Oh…that,” Inac replied, flippantly waving it off
like he would a servant offering him wine when he was too busy plotting a war.
“Just that I was going to kill her, so you were going to kidnap her before I
could. She was quite upset when she overheard you and blindly ran out of here
and into an extremely dangerous neighborhood where a couple of
worms
had
it in their minds to rape her.”

“Did they?” Tracker seemed ready to vomit.

Inac bored his eyes into the kid’s, not blinking
until well after the kid flinched. “No. She called me and I picked her up.”

Even from here, he could see the professor swallow
thickly out of the corner of his eye.

“And what became of the men?” he asked, his voice
wavering with fear.