Maia's Magickal Mates [The Double R 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (38 page)

He hoped he wasn’t too late.

Prentice made sure he wasn’t being followed as he left the town proper and headed toward the outskirts.

He enjoyed the sunset on the periphery of his vision, the fading light giving way to stunning, diminishing shades of gold, orange, pink, and lavender on the horizon. In less than an hour he caught up with Rance and his latest victim. Despite the waning sunshine and having to pull off to the side of the main road a distance back to avoid detection, Prentice’s excellent eyesight could make out the two figures clearly.

The teen boy appeared bound hand and foot, dangling over the front of the mount before Rance as the man steered his horse toward a copse of trees.

Prentice dismounted and quietly led his horse to a nearby stream from which to drink after their arduous trek. He rubbed the animal’s nose, assuring him of his quick return.

He duckwalked behind an outcropping of nearby rocks, following Rance as the man dismounted his horse and led the animal through the woods by the reins. The boy was precariously balanced on the horse’s back, quiet and unmoving.

With a confusing sense of dread, Prentice wondered if the teen was already dead. It shouldn’t matter to him one way or the other. Dead or not, the boy’s purpose had been served once Rance abducted him. The boy’s disappearance would fuel the fires of suspicion even more, and Prentice would make sure to fan the flames in Cade and Thayne’s direction.

Yet the idea of a child’s death, a comparative innocent, didn’t sit well with him.

Prentice cursed his scruples for rearing their ugly head at such an inopportune time. He’d never had this Achilles’ heel before. Why now?

Prentice waited before making his presence known. He didn’t come out from behind the trees until Rance reached the clearing on the other side of the woods, where the entrance to an abandoned mine came into view.

Rance turned with a jerk to the noise Prentice purposely made coming up behind him. He peered at Prentice before relaxing and letting his face break out into a grin.

Did he for one minute think that they were allies? Prentice was insulted by the mere idea. He’d never hurt or killed anyone who hadn’t hurt him first or who didn’t deserve it, unlike Rance Peyton, whose favorite targets seemed to be females and children.

“I thought you’d still be busy with Lucy.”

“She has her uses, and I got what I needed from her.” Prentice didn’t want to let the lecherous old bastard know exactly how much he had enjoyed Lucy’s body or her company. He wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. He slowly approached, pointedly looking at Rance’s horse and the burden the animal carried.

Rance rushed to explain. “Found the little critter injured on the side of the road. Was just taking him back to town for that new doc to take a look at.”

“You were going in the wrong direction,” Prentice observed.

Rance squinted at him, not as slow as Prentice had first pegged him. “So I was.”

They stood staring at each other for a long moment before Rance made the first and worst move of his life next to getting on Prentice’s bad side and went for the gun at his right hip.

He was surprisingly fast, but Prentice was a lot faster, invading Rance’s mind and snaking his psychic tentacles around Rance’s brain before squeezing tight to immobilize him.

Rance cried out, grabbing his head between both hands and falling to his knees.

Prentice slowly made his way over until he was standing directly before Rance, feeling stained to be in such physical and mental proximity to the other man’s particular brand of perversion. The images that bombarded his senses before he slammed his mind shut to that portion of Rance’s thoughts and memories made him want to retch.

He’d allowed himself a previous peek back in town. He’d needed to know his enemy before he made a move, but he still couldn’t believe all the boys Rance had abused, abducted, and killed, not just over the last few months but over the years.

Until very recently Rance had concentrated most of his attacks on black and Indian boys, and he probably would have never gotten caught had he not moved on to the white kids of Elk Creek. Once he’d done that and taken Tommy, he had gained the attention of a vengeful and determined uncle who even now followed the trail of the man responsible for his nephew’s disappearance. He was just looking in the wrong place, not for lack of trying, of course, except that Prentice needed to be alone with Rance and had used his powers of persuasion—magickal and nonmagickal alike—to mislead the uncle as well as others in the town.

Knowing how very single-minded and resourceful the uncle remained, however, Prentice knew that his time with Rance wasn’t unlimited.

Shooting Rance would be too merciful and quick, though, more than the man deserved. Prentice wanted him to suffer as much as he had made those boys and their parents suffer.

He kicked away the gun that Rance had dropped and loosened his grip on the man’s mind just for a moment. He wanted Rance to understand that he was going to die and why.

“You’ve been a very naughty boy, Rance, and for a very long while. It’s time someone put a stop to your little reign of terror.”

“Who are you?” Rance groaned.

“I’m the one who’s going to put a stop to it.”

“Fuck you, Teague!”

“Don’t you wish?” Prentice gritted his teeth as he tightened his psychic grip on Rance’s brain matter. He watched the man fall to his side and curl into the fetal position as blood trickled from his ears and nostrils.

“Stop it! Please!”

“Not so tough now, are you?” Prentice squeezed for all he was worth. He struck a blow for all the boys who’d marched a path before his mental camera in the last few minutes, for all the kids who’d been bullied, for his younger self who had endured years of abuse and torment from bigger and stronger boys.

He had a flash of one particular boy, the star quarterback from his high school who thought that Prentice was too smart and too pretty for his own good. He’d thought to sexually assault the smart and pretty out of Prentice. He’d failed—miserably.

Prentice could still see the boy’s look of horror when he’d unleashed the full force of his gifts to that point. It was the same expression Rance wore on his face now.

He smiled, never tired of that look. He never tired of righting a wrong.

Blood now ran from Rance’s eyes, and the man screamed one final time, body seizing for several seconds before finally going still and silent.

Prentice crouched beside him. He felt good, better even than he’d felt when he’d killed Aura. Despite doing what he’d felt he had to, with Aura’s death there had been an underlying feeling of guilt spoiling his sense of triumph.

“Where…where am I?”

Prentice stood and turned at the hoarse whisper behind him. He watched as the boy struggled against his bonds and began to slide off the horse. He rushed over in time to catch him in his arms, seeing the young features scrunched in bewilderment as the boy’s head lulled back against his shoulders.

An irrational sense of protectiveness rushed through him at the sight of the boy’s smooth skin, the long lashes brushing his cheekbones. He brushed a loose strand of blond hair away from the boy’s face before he caught himself.

Prentice placed the boy on the ground, went back to Rance, and unknotted the bandana from around his neck before returning to kneel behind the boy. He placed the wide part of the bandana over the boy’s eyes and knotted it at the back of his head, questioning his motives even as he did it.

If he planned to kill the boy, then why blindfold him?

Unless I
don’t
plan to kill him.

When had his plans changed?

This flip-flopping was dangerous. It left things too open to chance and Fate.

“Who are you?”

“Don’t worry about who I am.” Prentice took the knife from his boot and raised it to the boy’s throat, lightly pressing the sharp point against the skin just below his jaw.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

That small whimper almost undid him. “Be quiet,” he ordered, sliding the knife down the boy’s shirt until he reached the ropes knotted around his wrists. He thoughtfully tapped the blade against the thick cords before abruptly standing. He lifted the boy and flung him over his shoulder in a standard fireman hold, carrying him to the mine.

“Where are you taking me?”

Prentice didn’t answer him, just trudged forward, going several yards into the mine before stopping when he thought he had found the perfect spot.

He sat the boy down in front of a sturdy beam and silently cut through the thick hemp fiber tied around his wrists, keeping the longest cord. He directed the boy to put his hands behind his back. When the boy hesitated, Prentice jerked his arms back around the joist, securely knotting the leftover rope around his wrists.

Satisfied with his handiwork, he stood and wiped the perspiration from his forehead, considering his next move.

He realized it wasn’t necessary for him to kill the boy. He could just leave him here for safekeeping, until he finished what he needed to do with the Malloys and their woman, and be the hero when he “found” the boy afterward. As far as Prentice knew, the kid hadn’t gotten a look at his face, only Rance’s. Of course he had to make sure of this before he left him.

Prentice went back out to Rance’s horse, searching the saddlebags for provisions. As expected he found a full canteen of water, some wrapped biscuits, and several strips of beef jerky.

Was he looking at the makings of some sick romantic picnic?

Prentice wondered how much of the “feast” would have been given to the boy, or would he have been forced to watch Rance gorge himself before the man took his pleasure with the kid?

He took the canteen, biscuits, and jerky back to the kid. He sat beside him, hand-feeding him one of the biscuits and a few strips of the jerky before holding the canteen to his lips so that he could wash down his small meal with the cool water.

“Thank you,” the boy rasped.

Prentice didn’t answer. The less the boy heard his voice the better.

“You’re not Mr. Peyton.”

Just like Prentice thought. The boy had seen Rance, which meant that he would have ultimately suffered the same fate as Rance’s other victims.

And what am I going to do with him?

He put the canteen to the boy’s lips to let him get his fill before he had to leave him.

The boy gulped the water as if he knew it would be his last drink for a while.

Prentice stood and dusted off his pants. “I have to go.”

“No, please. Don’t leave me.”

“Someone will be back for you.”

“No they won’t. You’re leaving me here to die, just like he would have. Whoever you are, you’re no better than him.”

Prentice bit back a curse, hands fisted at his sides. Any other time, he might have admired the boy for his brave, astute words. Right now, he needed to get away from the spoiled brat before he said or did something he’d later regret.

Without another word he turned on his heels and left the mine, the boy’s accusation following him all the way back to town.

“Thayne, I need to speak to you now!” Cade slid to a stop on the threshold of the Coles’ bedroom, realizing the sight he must have made when Thayne and Olivia turned to him with wide-eyed looks.

“What’s up?” Thayne asked.

Olivia followed Thayne’s gaze and stared from Cade to Thayne and back again. “Are you all right, Mr. Malloy?”

Cade could barely return the woman’s look of concern. Her consideration made him feel ten times worse than he already did for interrupting. He knew the kind of pain she was in when her gout flared up, and he knew it had been flaring up more often than not since Thayne had taken over from Hopwood. He was sure the stress of missing her son had not helped her chronic condition. “I’m fine. I just needed to speak to my brother about something very important.”

She looked at Thayne and patted his hand resting on her swollen ankle. “I’ve been dealing with this pain for a while now. It’s not going anywhere.”

“I’m going to leave you some things to alleviate the pain and support your kidney function. You have to remember to take everything as directed.”

“Will you be leaving more of Sabrina and Maia’s nettle tea?”

Thayne smiled. “Yes, and I want you to eat plenty of dark, reddish-blue berries.”

“I will, Dr. Malloy.”

Thayne took a couple of small brown bottles out of his bag and placed them on the bedside table, writing out instructions for each item and leaving them on the table, too. “If you have another flare-up, don’t hesitate to have Clay come to town and get me,” Thayne told her.

“I won’t.”

Cade knew that she would wait until the last minute to have her husband get Thayne. Like the other farmers and homesteaders in the surrounding area, the Coles were hardworking, salt-of-the-earth people who wouldn’t let a little bout of gout or any other non-life-threatening ailment keep them from working their land. She’d deal with the pain as long as she could. She’d be like everyone else who was afraid of doctors or afraid that they couldn’t afford one’s services.