A Wolf's Heart (Harlequin Nocturne) (20 page)

Chapter 31

“I
will never love you, Rory, no matter what you do.” Elise’s hands were shaking as he got closer to her. She still felt nauseous. If he touched her, she might just lose it.

He smiled. “I’m sorry you feel that way, my love. But I think you’ll change your mind soon enough.” He set the flowers down on the table.

She tried to kick him with her legs. But he was too fast and avoided every swing of her foot. Besides that, she could barely move her legs.

Chuckling to himself, Rory reached down and grasped her by the ankles and dragged her across the floor toward the sofa.

He was so strong she couldn’t fight him. If she still wasn’t feeling the effects of the drug he’d given her, she would give him a run for his money, but as it was she couldn’t muster enough strength to do anything but hang on as he whipped her around the room.

When he had her near the sofa, he released her feet. That was his first mistake; his second was thinking she was going to go along with whatever he had planned. She was no meek little mouse. She was a wolf, through and through, despite her recessive vampiric genes.

As he bent over to grab her around the arms, she lifted her head quickly. He probably wasn’t expecting her to smash the top of her head into his face. She knew she’d connected. Could feel the spray of blood where she’d broken his nose.

“Damn it!” he yelled. He raised his hand and slapped her across the face. It was hard and fast and she tasted the familiar metallic tang of blood in her mouth.

“I won’t make this easy on you, Rory. I will fight you all the way.”

He wiped at his bloody nose and licked the rest off his top lip. Then he studied her on the floor, a trail of crimson on her chin from her split lip. “I never expected anything less from you, Elise.”

She thought maybe she’d won a little victory but it turned out to be short-lived when he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cloth. She didn’t have to inhale the air to know it was soaked with whatever chemical he’d dosed her with before.

“You brought this on yourself, remember that.”

She tried to pull away from him. She scratched and punched and thrashed, but he was too quick and too strong, and the cloth was covering her mouth and nose within seconds of him making the move.

She tried to hold her breath, but as her vision started to blur, from the chemical or lack of air she couldn’t decide, she took in a ragged gulp and took it all in. Her head started to swim. It wouldn’t be long before she lost consciousness. She tried to fight it. She didn’t want to go under. It was a complete loss of control. And she hated losing control.

She hoped that when she woke Rory hadn’t taken more than just her control from her. She could handle anything but that.

Chapter 32

G
abriel drove down to the studio. He got a call from the lab on the way. The tox report had come back on the driver who supposedly hung himself. There had been small traces of ketamine in his system. Because of that, his death was changed to a homicide instead of a suicide.

Rory Langford had a lot to pay for.

Gabriel hoped he was the one who collected on that payment.

He flashed his badge to the guard at the gate. He recognized him from his earlier visits. Chuck the security guard.

“What can I do for you this late, Inspector?”

Gabriel glanced at his watch. It was around two in the morning. Probably not a normal hour for people to be on the lot.

“What building is the prop warehouse?”

“Building twelve, sir.” He handed a clipboard to Gabriel. Everyone who came through the gates had to sign in. As he signed, he surveyed the names before his. He didn’t see Rory’s name there. There were actually only four other names on the list.

He handed the clipboard back. “Not too busy here.”

“No, sir. Hardly anyone comes this late. Sometimes the gaffers or grips will come to fix equipment, but most of the filming goes on during the day.”

“Does the name Rory Langford mean anything to you?”

“No, I’m sorry, sir.”

“He’s a tall guy, short black hair, unusual gray eyes, dresses real sharp, vampire, drives a red Camaro.”

Chuck shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Could you check to see if he’s been by the studio in the last week?”

The guard’s gaze flitted left then right. He licked his lips. “I could get in trouble for this, sir.”

“I know you could and I’m sorry about that. But this is really important or else I wouldn’t ask. If anyone asks, you could say I grabbed all the reports from you and there was nothing you could do.” He smiled a little at that since the guard was huge and lycan. There was no wrestling control from this guy.

He returned the grin. “Yeah, okay.” He grabbed a binder from under the counter and flipped through it for the past seven days. He stopped on one page. He nodded. “Yeah, looks like he was by about five days ago at six thirty-three in the morning.”

That coincided with the date of Elise’s accident on set. It was another piece of the puzzle coming together. “Thanks, man. If there’s anything I can do for you, let me know.”

Chuck licked his lips again, looking like he had something to say. “Well, I’d love to meet Elise Leroy and get her autograph.”

Gabriel wanted to yell right then and rip something apart. But instead he nodded, his lips tight. “I’ll see what I can do for you.”

“Thanks, Inspector.” He pressed a button and the gate swung open. Gabriel drove through.

He got to the lot, which was huge, but unfortunately, he couldn’t drive right to building twelve. He had to park near building ten.

He got out of his car and looked around. It was extremely easy to get confused here. Every building looked the same and if you didn’t know what number it was, you’d never find your way. There were no maps to guide you through the maze of white stucco warehouses.

As Gabriel started walking toward building twelve, the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stirred. Stopping, he raised his head and took in a deep breath of air. Closing his eyes, he did it again. If Elise was close by he’d be able to scent her. But he didn’t. He caught nothing but the smell of motor oil, stale goodies, doughnuts probably and coffee.

The coffee smell was fresh. Someone had been by here recently with a steaming cup of coffee.

He started to move again, but the sense of danger and dread wouldn’t go away.

When he neared building twelve, he stopped again and listened for sound, any sound—a voice, footsteps, a scream. There was nothing but crickets.

He wrapped his hand around the door handle. It was locked. Using all the strength he had, Gabriel squeezed the handle in his hand. It snapped open within seconds, crushed by his fingers. Slowly, he pulled open the door, praying under his breath that it didn’t squeak.

It didn’t and he fully opened it and peered inside. It was dark inside, but he didn’t need the overhead lights to see. He had good night vision courtesy of both his lycan and vampire ancestors.

He stepped into the building, hesitated for a minute and listened, but he didn’t hear anything of importance. Looking one way then the other, he decided he’d go in a clockwise direction, searching every nook and cranny in the building. From his position at the door and the fact that there may have been an entrance on the other side, Gabriel crept to the left, intending to make it across the building in as little time as possible.

There was a path cut through the tall metal shelves of thousands upon thousands of props. He weaved his way around them, stopping every so often to listen. He heard nothing but his own labored breathing and his soft-soled shoes on the cement floor.

He was starting to think this had been a stupid idea, a desperate man grasping at desperate threads. He was wasting his time down here. He could be back at the lab helping analyze the real evidence. He could be out on the streets even, looking for anyone that had seen Rory in the past two days.

He was getting near the other side of the building, the place where they kept pieces of different sets. They were placed in an order, almost like puzzle pieces—a living room abutted a kitchen from a different era, old gas pumps sat up against the backdrop of space. He went through them piece by piece, but with every step his gut churned more and more.

What was he doing here? He was a huge fool to think Rory would take Elise here. There weren’t even any rooms, just set after set. Rory would want privacy. A place he could have Elise all to himself. He wouldn’t find that in a big old warehouse where anyone could come in.

He went through all the sets and was near the back door, the door he must’ve come in when he’d gotten lost the first time. Rubbing a hand over his face, he cursed himself again for wasting valuable time. He put his hand on the door handle, intending to open it and get the hell out of there. But something gave him pause.

He swung back around to the sets. There was something wrong. He surveyed the area, went back down a ways then came back to the door. Something was definitely wrong all right.

The set from Elise’s movie was missing.

Chapter 33

E
lise slumped over onto her right side as Rory settled her onto the sofa as if he was posing a rag doll. She was conscious but barely. She couldn’t move her limbs much. Maybe a flinch here or there, but nothing that mattered. She couldn’t push him away or strike out at him. And she wanted to with all her heart and soul.

He righted her again, but this time her head fell back. Luckily there were the sofa cushions to bolster the back of her skull. Her head was already pounding and she didn’t welcome a knock on it to increase the pain.

“There you are. All comfy?”

She stared at him in shock. He was quite literally insane. She could see it in his gray eyes. It was as if he actually believed that she was okay with this, that he was entitled in some warped way to do this to her.

She went over the past ten years in her mind. Had she led him on somehow? Was there a time she’d ever kissed him or touched him inappropriately? She couldn’t remember one incident. She’d never found him attractive. They had a business relationship and nothing more. She’d certainly cared about him, as one does with friends, but her feelings didn’t go beyond that.

“You don’t have to do this, Rory,” she said. Though her words came out slurred and almost unrecognizable, she knew he understood what she’d said.

He sat next to her on the sofa and put his arm around her shoulder. “Smile, darling. We don’t want to have a bad picture for our anniversary.” He grabbed her chin in his hand and tilted her head forward. A camera flash went off from somewhere in front of them.

Elise swallowed the bile rising in her throat. He was taking pictures of them together, as if they were a happy couple in love. She pulled her head away, but he held firm to her chin.

“Don’t move. You’ll ruin the picture.”

Another flash. Another picture taken.

He snuggled in closer to her, and his arm moved down, his hand becoming bolder. His fingers brushed against the side of her breast. She closed her eyes against the wave of nausea that washed over her.

“We met on this set, remember?” he said as another flash lit the room. “You’d just wrapped and I introduced myself over by the brunch table.”

She opened her eyes and looked around the room. There had to be a way out. She scanned the walls. It was like being in a box. How had he gotten the set? Had he constructed it himself, making a room, her prison, so he could pen her up like a prisoner?

She had to get out of here. She feared for her life. For the first time ever, she didn’t know if she’d survive. Her life was no longer hers to control. Rory had taken that from her.

Anger and hate and fear swirled around in her gut. She couldn’t let him win. She had to do something, anything. She might not get out, but she was certainly not going to make this easy on him. He’d have to fight her long and hard to take what he truly wanted from her. Her soul.

“You were so beautiful that day. You still had the bruises makeup on your face. Someone would think that would’ve dampened your beauty. But to me it just added to it. Like a bruised flower, ready to be plucked and taken care of.”

She let him keep talking. It distracted him so that she could figure out what to do. The drugs were still in her system, but she could feel the effects starting to fade a little. It would have to be enough.

First she flexed and relaxed her toes. Then her calf muscles, then her thighs. She kept at it until she could feel the sharp pain in her leg when she pinched herself. Her fingers worked, thankfully, but she was unsure she could lift her arms. She had to try it. But how without him becoming suspicious?

He pulled her tighter to him. She could feel the heat from his body and smell the sweet stench of gin on his breath. Taking a deep breath, she moved her arm. It jerked a little but it wasn’t good enough. She did it again, and this time her arm flapped to the side and her hand landed in his lap.

He flinched, looking at her. She thought he’d get angry, maybe slap her for moving, but instead he smiled. “I knew you’d come around. You’ve been playing hard to get for too long now, Elise.”

Then he did the thing she’d been dreading. With his lips parted so she could see his fangs fully distended, he leaned down to her mouth. “I’ve been dying to kiss you for so long. Other men may have kissed you before, but only my lips can possess you forever.”

She made the mistake of looking into his eyes as he brushed his lips against hers. Although she was repulsed beyond reason, she couldn’t find it in herself to pull away. And she couldn’t look away from him. He drew her gaze in. She felt herself being drawn down a tunnel, a dark and dreadful tunnel. Her stomach roiled. She didn’t want to go there. She wanted out. She knew she’d die if she didn’t do something soon.

The only thing she could think to do was make a fist around the first thing she could get ahold of. His eyes widened as she crushed him. He shoved her away, and the motion propelled her onto the floor, but still she held on to him.

“You bitch!” he shrieked.

He grabbed at her hand, digging his nails into her flesh, and wrenched her hand away. While he was busy trying to breathe through the extreme pain she’d inflicted, Elise crawled away on the floor. Closing her eyes and gathering all her strength, she scrambled onto her feet and stumbled toward the closed door. She got her hand around the door handle before he recovered and came after her.

But he moved too quickly. She couldn’t even open the door before he was on her, picking her up and tossing her across the room.

She screamed as she soared through the air. Her shins hit the edge of the sofa and she crashed onto the table, breaking it into pieces. Pain shot up her back and neck to swirl and boil inside her head.

Rolling over, she looked up into the face of death. There was no doubt in her mind that Rory was going to kill her.