Hunting the Shadows (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Wake up.”

The voice was soft and disembodied, and for a moment, it was unrecognizable as she tried to focus. Amy opened her eyes and saw nothing.
Blind.
She struggled past the panic, swallowing the terror before she realized she’d been blindfolded and tied to a chair. Her wrist felt vaguely naked and it dawned on her—he’d removed the band. If he hadn’t been so close, if his presence hadn’t tampered with her mind, she would have been overwhelmed.

Ajay
.
She had to find her.

“Bastard.”

His laugh sent a shudder up her spine and Amy struggled in the restraints. “I won’t argue with you. And I’m sure poor Ajay would have agreed if she were still alive.” Her head pounded as she tried to sort through his words. She had to focus. “Pretty, Amy,” he whispered. He ran a finger along her throat and chuckled when she jumped.

He pressed his hand tightly against her larynx. When she thought her mind couldn’t spin any more out of control, he let up, allowing her half a breath before he squeezed again. The pressure eased then released and she gasped, wheezing as she sucked in air.

“Why are you doing this?” Her mouth felt as though it were filled with sand.

“You know the answer to that.”

His hands pressed against the back of her head and the blindfold fell to the ground.

Rick. The puzzle pieces began to fall into place. Rick, who was always around when she overloaded. Rick, who helped them search for Ajay, knowing full well where to avoid. Who’d searched the Crypt himself. “What do you plan to do?”

“Nothing you should worry your pretty little head about. You won’t be around long enough to be part of my plan anyway. You had potential, Amy. I thought with a little training, yo—”

“I’d never be your accomplice.”

He chuckled. “I can see how you might think that.” He sobered suddenly, folding his sleeves up. Her stare fell to his arms, to the dark, red scratches when he’d attacked her before. “If only you hadn’t run to J.C. He can’t help you, you know. He’s going to have to die.”

She noticed for the first time the signature, the mark that was like a fingerprint. How had she missed it before? Had all the drugs he used to pump into her system affected her ability to see him properly? Amy struggled to remain lucid. “You’re crazy.”

His fist caught her in the jaw and the force snapped her head back. The dizziness swallowed her and she shook her head to clear her vision when it swam.

“Respect, Amy. You should know better. I thought I taught you better.” He sighed as though she were an undisciplined child, tsking her softly. “You would have died without me. You should have by all rights if I hadn’t stepped in.”

“I was a child.”

“You would have died,” he repeated.

Amy struggled through his words. She stared at Rick, blinking back the shadows of her vision. “They could have helped you, Rick. They could have done something.”

His laugh was incredulous. “I did what I had to do. You don’t seem to understand. Imagine yourself in my shoes, unable to feel a fucking thing, knowing from day one that you were different, that for some reason you were hungry…but you weren’t sure what you were hungry for. Then your schoolmate loses control and at that first taste of her life energy you realize that you need it.”

Her gaze dropped to the corner of the room where a woman lay crumpled on the floor. Blood still dripped over the smooth column of Ajay’s throat. Revulsion shook her system, tears blurring her vision. There was no way that Ajay was alive, not with so much blood spilled.

Oh God.

Transfixed on the sight, she didn’t keep track of Rick and when he wound his hand in her hair, pulling her head back, fear skittered through her veins. “You had problems adapting to new situations. You were weak and becoming withdrawn. When I came across you, you were dying.”

The chair tipped back then fell forward into place, so fast that if she hadn’t been tied down, she would have flopped to the ground. Clenching her fists, Amy pulled at the restraints and felt the bonds rub at her wrists.

“I wouldn’t struggle too much.” He stepped around her. “You can’t get out. The only thing you’ll accomplish is to rub your skin raw. Not that it matters, but why make yourself more uncomfortable if there’s no need?”

“J.C. knows about you,” she lied.

He smiled. “If that were true then where is he? He certainly isn’t here. Or maybe you don’t mean as much to him as you think you do.” Leaning in, Rick touched her cheek, stroking his finger along her skin. She turned her face away.

Desperate for J.C. to hear—knowing that Rick wasn’t going to let her get through, but having to try—she rushed.
“J.C.? I need you. It’s Rick…please help…he’s the killer.”

The sickness came again and she drifted on it.

Rick settled his hands on her shoulders, seemingly unaware of her disgust when he touched her. “It’s just you and me.”

* * *

J.C.’s stomach sank, curdling with fear every moment Amy’s mind remained blocked. Stefan had passed out, his wounds extensive, but J.C. remembered Stefan’s final words.

Rick was the killer?

He hadn’t even suspected Rick. At the age of two Rick had been charted with some kind of ability, enough to earn him the tattoo, but it’d regressed. Broderick had been disappointed to realize that one of his sons had no abilities, and the one who did was a complete pussy.

But they were wrong. Rick’s abilities had simply manifested into a different form that barely registered.

J.C. rubbed a hand over his mouth and contemplated everything he knew of the case. Damn it, Stefan’s
DNA
had been found in a victim’s locket. The knife
used
at a murder had been stashed in his room. Stefan
worked
with the children. The evidence was all there. It’d all fallen into place…
too
perfectly. Why would Rick set up his own brother?

“You need to see this.”

He glanced over at Darilynn and took the paper she handed him. “What am I reading?”

“You’ll never guess who incarcerated Tristan.”

Fuck.

His mouth went dry. “Let me guess. Rick.”

He’d lied to them about his association with Tristan. Why didn’t that surprise him?

“It was buried in the records. I had to dig through the system.” She adjusted the glasses on her nose. “Get this, Tristan had three black marks.”

“So you think Rick cut him a deal?”

She nodded. “Would explain some things. You said he freaked out when he saw you two, before he killed himself.”

He jolted from the desk, knocking the mug over. It crashed to the ground, spilling dark liquid on the white tiles. He didn’t care. Didn’t even look back. Instead, he shouted over his shoulder, “Wake Ariadne and Davan. Get their teams out there. Stefan said Rick had Amy. I want everyone searching. Wherever Amy is, we’ll find Ajay.”

He rushed out of the lab, his stride long and determined. Exhaustion forgotten, he raced to his room, nearly tripping in the blood as he slid across where the guards lay dead. His hand shook as he reached for the bedroom door, knowing it would be empty. As he shoved inside he was trying to reach her mentally. Still, he was unable to get through.

“Amy, please, sweetheart, talk to me. Help me figure out where you are.”

Don’t be dead, he thought desperately. He couldn’t have failed to protect another person he cared for. There was no way he would let that happen. He would do whatever it took to get her back. Anything.

As he tore through the small room, something white on the bed caught his attention. He swore his heart stopped as he rushed over, hands not even close to being steady as he reached for the paper and read the neatly handwritten words:
J.C., Ajay is in the Crypt. Go to the cell where I found the locket.

* * *

Amy woke to darkness, dry-mouthed panic making her heart pound. Rick had left to dispose of Ajay, leaving her alone. She fought against the rope binding her to the chair, twisting and pulling until pain sliced through the fear.

So many agents had lost their lives, and now Ajay. How many more?

Ajay. She closed her eyes, allowing a moment’s grief for the woman to wash over her. They’d been too late. The tears had passed and so had the panic, replaced with something else, something that left a bitter taste. Carefully, she turned her head to study the room.

It was no bigger than any other cell and smelled of stale, humid air, thick with the coppery scent of blood and sweat.

How the hell was she going to get out?

She twisted one way then the other, hissing as the ropes grated into her skin. Her wrists were already raw and bleeding. She nearly succumbed to a bout of hysterical laughter, but forced herself to sit still and concentrate on breathing until it passed. Falling apart wouldn’t help.

It was so hot in this airless place. Like a coffin. She didn’t like the comparison.

Where was J.C.? How long had she been down here?

Amy bit her lip to make sure that she didn’t make a sound and slowly leaned forward. Using her feet, she pushed herself off the chair a bit. The muscles in her legs trembled but she pushed her elbows forward until the rope began to loosen.

Triumph sang through her veins as she sat back down. Her breath came in fast pants. Rotating her hands so that her palms were down, she slowly worked at the rope until agonizingly, her hands slipped out and she was able to untie her legs.

The moment she was free, Amy took off stumbling, the blood moving back through her stiff legs. She leaned against the damp cinderblock walls for support, forcing her feet to move through the darkness.

A slew of curses echoed down the corridor.

“Amy, I know you haven’t gone far.” Rick’s voice quivered with rage and Amy sucked in a deep breath to steady her jumping pulse. “There’s no point in running.”

She willed herself to move faster as she ran down the hall toward an emergency exit. Her options weren’t exactly sparkling—it was either be lost in a space that had the potential to trap her or get lost outside where there were wild animals and sharp drop offs. She shoved at the door and when it didn’t budge, felt the scream of frustration bubble up to her lips.

But then she found the latch and stumbled out into the night, feet making contact with loosely packed wet leaves and soil. The wind shoved her backward, whistling past her ears.

She lurched through the pelt of rain, moving on an incline as she ripped through ferns. Lightning snapped overhead, forking through the sky to illuminate the darkness with an eerie orange.

“Amy!” Rick screamed. “Don’t run from me. You know I’ll find you. You’re going to piss me off if I have to chase you.”

She knew better than to answer. His voice seemed to come from all directions. Relying on her senses, she strained to catch the sound of his words. How close was he?

Her breath sawed in and out loudly and she wondered if she was the only one who could hear her desperate pants.

“I’m disappointed in you.” He sounded close. Too close. “I thought you knew me. Clearly this isn’t the way to please me. Stop running.”

She wanted to rush headlong into the trees and run blindly into the shadows. It took every ounce of caution to go slowly, to watch for the hidden traps of fallen trees. The wind stung her eyes, making them blur. As the air cooled, fog had curled like thick vines along the ground and over her shoes.

“Where the hell are you?” The wind ripped the words away, but Amy heard the growl of displeasure in his voice.

She spun, expecting to see him right behind her. Please, she thought desperately, go away. Pleasepleaseplease.

But he wouldn’t stop. She’d seen too much. Knew too much.

He couldn’t afford to let her live.

When she heard him thrashing around behind her, she ran. She didn’t consider where she was going. It didn’t really matter when she didn’t have an idea of her direction. Her feet slipped, sliding wild over mud slick leaves. She went down hard, her head snapping back painfully as she landed on her back, sending her body into shock. Rain soaked her hair and dripped into her eyes.

Breathless, she rolled over. Blood splattered over her hand, bright red against the paleness of her skin. Not again.
Please, not now.
This wasn’t the time. Amy swiped under her nose.

Her mind was overloading. There wasn’t much time before she slipped unconscious and if she didn’t get medical help soon, there would be no reversing the effects.

“It’s happening.” She looked into Rick’s eyes as he stood over her. “Time to die, Amy.”

“No.” Her eyes refocused. She lunged to her feet. “I won’t give up.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

J.C. had hunted opponents in the past, tracking his quarry all over the mountainous terrain. From highly trained agents to criminals, he’d gone after all sorts. But this time his prey was Amy and that made it even worse. He had no time to doubt himself.

He had to find her.

He’d combed through the Crypt and after finding the blood, panic clenched so tightly around his heart that he had to stop for a moment to catch his breath. An emergency exit had been shoved open and he’d stepped out into the storm. He wasn’t a praying man, but he would do anything for her to still be alive. To know that he was going in the right direction.

She could be anywhere.

Bending, he touched an impression of a footprint in the mud. It was fresh, but just how fresh, he wasn’t entirely sure with the rain. All he could do was head in that direction and hope that she would be on the other end of the trail.

She might already be dead, but he was unwilling to think of that possibility.

There was a bone-numbing terror that he would be too late, that when he finally found her, she would be dead and her throat cut. Like the others. The thought drove him harder. She was out there somewhere in the vastness of the forest.

The wind howled, the cold slap of rain jerking him back a step. He was racing around the top of a steep incline, using the foliage for cover when he heard a scream.

Amy was alive.

For now.

* * *

Rick moved before she could do more than let out a short scream. She didn’t have time to think, let alone move, before the knife was at her throat. Rick’s arm wrapped around her stomach, pulling her to him.

“You can kill me, but you’re not going to get away with this. They know.”

“They know nothing.” He pressed his face close to hers and whispered harshly, “Stop playing with my fucking head. As far as they know, Stefan killed those victims. It wasn’t hard to plant the knife, or steal the bag of his blood from Medical. No one will know it’s me.”

She held her breath as he nudged her chin up with the blade, the edge digging into her skin. Closing her eyes, Amy tried to think. If she moved, he’d cut her throat. If she didn’t, he’d cut her anyway. No matter what she did, she was dead.

There was a thrashing in the brush and the snap of branches. They heard it at the same time and her heart leaped with hope. Rick spun around, dragging her with him and she collapsed against him. Sheer will pushed her to gain her footing.

“Let her go.” J.C. skidded to a halt on the path, bracing his feet as he leveled a gun. “Damn it, Rick, put the knife down. Don’t be stupid.”

“And what? Jaegar-Caleb Nikolaiev saves the day again?” Rick shook his head and his hand tightened on Amy. “Put your gun down or I’ll kill her. You know I will. I’ll slice her throat.”

As incentive, he turned the point of the blade to prick at the side of her throat.

Amy struggled, only to be pulled flat against him.

It didn’t matter what happened, her system wasn’t going to stabilize. She had to kill him first. Before he hurt J.C. With that intention, she forced herself into his mind. She didn’t get far. His will was stronger than hers. He was nothing like the other man she’d compelled to kill himself. She started to implant the thought for him to use the gun on himself when he kicked her out, the whiplash shattering her concentration and disorienting her. Pain arrowed through her brain. Something warm and wet dripped down the side of her throat and she didn’t have to see it to know that it was blood from her ear.

There was nothing anyone could do.

Her gaze locked desperately on J.C., watching as he hesitated then slowly lowered his gun to the ground and kicked it away. ”There. Now let her go and we’ll talk. Whatever problems you have, we’ll discuss them.”

She swallowed tentatively, painfully aware of the knife.

Rick laughed. “Do you really think I’m going to go with you because you say you’ll help me? Fuck that.” He stroked the blade over her throat. “How much is her life worth to you, J.C.? Would you die for her?”

“Don’t make any sudden moves. Come on, Rick, what’s going on with you? You’re not going to use that.”

“He killed Ajay,” Amy blurted out on an explosion of breath. She felt a nick and the warmth of more blood dripped down her throat. “Don’t listen to him. I’m dead no matter what. It doesn’t matter what you say o—” Her voice cut off as he curled his hand in her hair and jerked her head back.

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!”

Amy whimpered as the blade skimmed along her jugular. “He’ll kill me no matter what you do. My mind’s overloading. I’m not going to make it anyway. Please.”

Her eyes met J.C.’s. There was something different, something cold and distant reflected there. He was the trained assassin, an agent that had shut off all emotions. He wasn’t the man that held her at night. No, this man, she thought as her vision began to blur, she didn’t recognize.

“Put the knife down. We can help you.”

“I don’t need your help. Don’t you see, J.C.? I’m in control.” Rick’s voice tightened.

“They’re going to track you. The others know I’m out here. They’re going to be looking for us.” J.C. slowly began to move around them in a deceptively lazy circle.

“I covered my tracks. The only reason you’re here is because Amy can’t keep her pretty mouth shut.”

J.C. shook his head. “We found Stefan. He turned you in.”

“Why would anyone listen to him?” Rick scowled and when J.C. stepped forward, he jerked her back. “I can slit her throat right now and get down the mountain before you know what happened. Stay back. She’s mine, J.C. I came for what belongs to me.”

She heard the rumble in J.C.’s throat but he said nothing, simply watched them. J.C. wouldn’t jump into action, not with the blade pressing into her throat, threatening to break skin with one clean, slip of the hand.

Rick slid his free hand around her waist, pressing his palm against her stomach to bring her flush against the length of his body when he took a step back.

She stumbled as he guided her through the path.

J.C. shot a glance to the gun he’d dropped then slid his gaze to her. Amy saw the fear that was hidden there in the depths of his eyes. “Let her go, Rick. I’m not going to tell you again.”

“What are you going to do to get her away from me? You’re not going to risk making a move with this knife at her throat.” His laugh was low and hearing it, the quiet edge of insanity, Amy stiffened.

She let her legs buckle abruptly, knowing it was her last chance. Her dead weight jerked Rick off balance. She blocked his blow with her elbow and connected with his jaw. Although she spoiled his aim, the blade sliced a long cut along her collarbone as he shoved her at J.C.

J.C.’s hands caught her, setting her aside before he charged, knocking Rick back. They went down, the knife clattering on stone as it flew out of Rick’s hand. Clamping down on the pain, Amy managed to get to her knees and pull herself out of the grappling path of the duo.

Electricity crackled in the air. It lifted the small hairs along the back of her neck. She spun toward the two men, feeling the spike of Rick’s abilities. “J.C.!”

Amy slammed up what mental shields she could form but they weren’t enough. The impact of Rick’s mind left her breathless as the world faded to black and white. She fought him but his power clung to her, breaking through any protection she had and pulling her deep into his mind.

She lost equilibrium, falling against a tree for support. She slid down to her knees, fisting her hands in the grass for some kind of a lifeline. Her vision blurred and doubled. It was too late.

“It didn’t have to be like this.” In her mind, she watched Rick shove J.C. back. “If you two had left it alone, this never would have happened.”

A lie. She’d always known that one day he would come for her.

J.C. rose to his feet, turning slowly as though tracking the sound of Rick’s voice. Amy caught a glance of his eyes and the white film covering his irises. He’d been blinded, his abilities blocked.

“So quiet, Amy. Are you in my head?”

She said nothing, simply eased air into her lungs. The world shifted and spun. Lowering herself, she pressed her forehead against damp moss.

“I won’t let you kill him.”

“You should have thought of that before you got him involved.” Rick stepped close, his fingers twisting in her hair. He jerked her head up, his breath brushing the curve of her cheek. “Do you feel the hunger?”

Tears spilled down her cheeks. She tried not to feel that empty pang that grew in her stomach—a hunger that couldn’t be fed. Feeding off Ajay had done nothing to appease it. If anything, it made him want more.

“Do you?”

She nodded, her breath catching.

“Good.” He shoved her forward and she fell against J.C.

J.C. steadied her as he shifted his weight in anticipation of an attack. She caught his arms and moved in front of him, forcing her head up to look at Rick.

“You’re not going to hurt him,” she whispered. Hands shaking, she reached back for J.C.’s and eased her fingers between his.

“What are you going to do about it?” Rick stepped close. Moonlight glinted off his knife.

“I’ll stop you. You won’t have time to use that knife.”

His lips curled.

She felt a shredding in her mind, a tearing that made her cry out before she could stop herself. Rocking back and forth on her heels, Amy tried to think past the anger that came off Rick and the intensity of his desire for violence. The attack rippled in the air around her, knocking all the oxygen from her lungs.

When he attacked—the knife raised—J.C. pushed her out of the way with a shout to run. She fell to the ground, her knees buckling beneath her. As the two men fought for control of the weapon, the trees and rocks circled around her, faster and faster.

She closed her eyes against the distortion of images and lowered the mutilated shields in her mind. The full impact of Rick’s madness slammed into her. Stomach heaving, she shoved herself into ugliness of his world and merged their minds.

There were dangers to immersing herself so deep but she couldn’t worry about any of those. J.C. was going to die. Rick had begun feeding, making her head swim and her body to float with endorphins.

She couldn’t back out.

As though Rick sensed her intentions, he attempted a counteraction. Despite the numbness spreading through her body, she pushed deeper. Everything went black in his head except for a few flashes and pulses of electricity. Drawn to the sparks, she attacked the volt of fluctuations.

When his mind shorted out, he took her with him.