Quicksilver Dreams (Dreamwalkers) (41 page)

“Are you all right?” Paul tried to lean toward me, but the ropes held tight. “You’re bleeding,” he noted, which was totally a surreal and absurd moment, considering he looked like a piece of pulp. Blood had dried in a thick, dry crust over his face, with splatter on his T-shirt. It was sickening. My stomach churned, and I had to take a deep breath.

“What happened to you? Who did this?” My voice sounded small.

“I have associates.” Frank quirked his lips, answering for Paul. “They’ll be back soon, wanting a completion to our business as quickly as possible. We were just waiting for you.”

“I’m so sorry. So sorry...” Paul murmured with a heartfelt sadness. He let his head fall back on the top of the chair, like he couldn’t hold it up anymore.

“Isn’t that sweet.” Frank grabbed the one spare wooden dining chair that had been pulled into the room and placed it before Paul. Taking his time, he sat in a genteel fashion and gave Paul a saccharine smile. “You care for her? That should make this even easier.”

“Bastard,” Paul muttered.

Had I just become leverage? I shivered, feeling so cold suddenly. I reached out to search Frank’s mind for any hint at what he was planning to do with us but encountered blankness. Not even a smidgeon of feeling was coming through. He was a master of constructing a mental fortress.

Footsteps sounded from one of the other rooms. We listened silently for a moment as the steps grew louder amid angry-sounding voices.

“Back off, Rosser! I’m not in charge,” I heard Jory say sharply. She rounded the archway in her cloglike sandals.

“Why have you taken him? What the hell is happening here?” The older male voice sputtered angrily from somewhere behind her.

“Not my business,” she hissed over her shoulder as she appeared in the archway. She seemed upset, which was strange. There was nothing being done to her. No one was threatening her life. Damn bitch.

“Paul! Oh, God, Paul!” The gray-haired man I’d seen in Paul’s memory appeared and blanched at the sight of his son. He tried to rush across the room toward him, but after a nod from Frank, Crew Cut and Baldy grabbed him and shoved him back. He struggled with urgency to get past them, but they held firm.

“Get off me, you sons of bitches!” Rosser demanded, stalling his efforts to pull away.

“Rosser, your son has been a bad, bad boy.” Frank shook his head. “He won’t tell us the location of the mylunate.”

“So you beat him? Please! Let me take care of him! He’s my son! He needs medical care!” Rosser’s voice cracked.

“Not until he spills the beans,” Frank said pleasantly enough.

“Pauly!” Rosser renewed his struggles, only to have Baldy thrust a fist into his gut, causing him to grunt and gasp for air, stilling his resistance.

“I’d stay put if I were you,” Frank offered helpfully.

“Dad, what the hell were you thinking?” Paul asked tiredly through his swollen lips. “How could you make plans with terrorists?”

Tears of helplessness began dripping from Rosser’s eyes. He loved his son and couldn’t handle seeing him like this. With gasping breaths, he said, “Pauly, Pauly...I didn’t want you to know... I’m so sorry... The business was in trouble... I’m in trouble... I acted on tips I was given and sank the whole ship. I’m going to jail if I can’t cover the loss.” To Frank he yelled, “Do you have to keep him tied up? He’s not going to hurt anything!”

“Wrong,” Frank replied coldly, calmly. “He’s feeling a bout of patriotism, humanity, call it what you will, and despite numerous attempts at persuasion, he won’t come clean.”

“Tell them where the mylunate is, Pauly,” his father pleaded. “Then I can get you out of here.”

“They’re terrorists, Dad. They’re going to kill people! I just...just can’t believe that you...would do this.” The depth of Paul’s disappointment, his sudden comprehension of who his father was, was almost painful. This was an intimate conversation between father and son that was happening with an audience.

“Goddammit! You don’t fuck around with these guys! They’re going to kill you!” Rosser’s voice rose in panicked distress.

“I know. I’ll die with a clean conscience.”

I looked up at Paul from my position on the floor, soaked in the violence that surrounded me, and realized that he truly believed that he was going to die. He’d given up. I could only imagine what all had been done to him, and he’d spent his time here making peace with himself.

“But what about your father?” Frank pulled a gun out of his side pocket and aimed it at Rosser, who was visibly startled to see it pointing in his direction. His face flushed.

“What the hell is this? Who the hell do you think you are to come into my house and start making demands on people? I’ve been here for you almost twenty years now! Where’s the loyalty? The appreciation? Put that goddamn gun away!”

“Rosser, I am loyal to myself. Loyalty to anyone else is foolish and only brings pain,” Frank stated grimly.

In that moment, gone was the facade of levity, and in its place were the cold-blooded eyes of a killer. We all got a good look into the dark depravity that was Ranik Grayson. Even Baldy and Crew Cut cast nervous glances at each other before looking back at Ranik. He had secrets. Secrets that had twisted him.

Silence fell as Rosser looked into Frank’s eyes and saw the coldhearted truth. He looked down at the gun that was pointed directly at his chest, and his anger drained. Terror was born.

Rosser’s pleading eyes turned to Paul. “You’re going to let him shoot me? All you have to do is tell him where the stuff is!”

“Dad, do you really think he’s going to let us out of here alive even if we give him what he wants?” Paul shook his head sadly, sorrowfully. “You signed our death warrants. Take a good look around. We’re all dead. Every single one of us.”

And that included me. That’s when my shivering started. I was truly terrified.

“I’m out of here,” Jory muttered. “You know where I am.”

“Until later, Jory, love.” Frank’s icy voice came out softly. Then he turned on Paul. “So where is the mylunate? And let’s be clear that this is the final time I will ask you before I shoot your father.”

“Pauly! Please! I’m your father!” Rosser’s breathing had become quick and shallow with fear.

The horror of the moment swamped my senses. Paul was resolved, but waves of shock and scalding pain were clenching his insides. He was remembering a warm, loving time when his mother and father had still been together, and they’d had a lovely beach holiday in some tropical place. He could remember his father chasing him down the sand, letting him get away, but just barely. They were both laughing, enjoying the game. I could feel what this was doing to him viscerally and could only wish for a miracle intervention that wasn’t going to come.

“What am I supposed to do?” Paul choked on his words. “You want to take money for killing innocent people. Who are you? I don’t know you.”

“Not me, Pauly! I’m just a go-between guy!”

“Same difference.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Rosser shook his head. “I can’t fix it.”

“It’s too late. For all of us.”

“Pauly, no!”

Paul’s look was full of pain, his eyes moving over his father’s face intently, as though trying to memorize the details. “I love you, Dad. I’m sorry. I grew up to be the man you always wanted me to be. I can’t be responsible for innocent people dying. And I don’t think you want me to, either. We’ll see each other again. Soon.”

He was staring into his father’s eyes as the bullet entered his father’s chest. A soundless scream came as Rosser’s mouth opened in protest and nothing came out. The loud report of the gun seemed to echo in the vast emptiness of the room, and it was like time slowed.

“No!” My reaction felt delayed. He’d actually shot him! Death was here. Present in the room. He was claiming a soul before my eyes.

Rosser could only look down at his chest as crimson spread across his white button-up shirt. Then his legs buckled, landing him on his knees, and his face creased into lines of pain. A single deep, guttural sob tore from Paul’s chest. He closed his swollen, purpled eyes with an anguished sound trembling on his lips.

It had really happened. Rosser was dying and no one was going to help him. This wasn’t a dream to wake up from. Oh, shit! Oh, my God! I gasped for breath after breath, horrified and mesmerized by the sight all at once. Sweat broke out across my face and neck.

In the next moment, all thoughts fled as cold fingers of fear dug in to my mind, gripping it firmly. My thoughts swirled around a single question.

Was I next?

Frank sighed, tilting his head to the side as though looking at a small curiosity, and watched Rosser collapse to his belly, his breathing labored, heavy and slowing little by little. It wasn’t like in the movies. This wasn’t fast. It was slow and agonizing. Frank was taking a certain amount of pleasure in watching Rosser suffer his final moments. A light of satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. That was more frightening than anything. It was so inhuman.

Rosser took a final rattling breath and released it, only to be silent once and for all.

Gone. Done. Not coming back. Paul was right. None of us was going to survive.

I’m so sorry
,
Ryder.
I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you.
Or would it have made a difference?
Maybe we would both have been taken
,
both of us facing death.
No. This was best. I wouldn’t have been able to handle seeing his death. And maybe this was going to be my death, but I wasn’t going to make it easy.

Frank was not going to let me out alive willingly, but I still had mylunate on my toe. When I had the chance, I was going grab hold of Paul, somehow, and hopefully get us both the hell out of here.

“Hog.” Frank turned to Baldy. “Why don’t you go out and let me know when our guests arrive? And I do hope you’ll have a different answer for them, Paul, when they ask for the mylunate this time. As you know, they are experts at torture. And while you might be able to handle the pain, I don’t think Taylor here is made of the same stuff.”

“Is that why I’m here?” I asked shakily. “To force Paul to talk?”

“That is a good question. A very good question.” Frank chuckled as he pondered it. It was like he was trying to decide whether or not to tell me something. With a look like he was indulging in a guilty pleasure, he said, “You are about to be very surprised, Taylor, dear. You see, your name is not really Taylor.”

“Wh-what are you t-talking about?” This wasn’t exactly what I was expecting to hear, but I suddenly got goose bumps. What did he know about me? I was starting to get that weird, fated feeling again.

“What am I talking about? I’m talking about loose ends, my darling. You are a loose end.”

“A loose end?” Shit, this felt surreal.

He smiled charmingly, becoming giddy with his game. “Do you know who your father is?”

The door from the Gods’ plane opened in my mind, a calming breeze sifting through my heart and soul. This was Dreya. She was with me. I could feel her energy signature, even if only a little.

Back was the feeling of inevitability, where all roads led to this one destination in time. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I was supposed to be here at this moment. I knew I was meant to have this conversation with the devil.

“What do you know about him?” I managed the question in an even tone.

“He’s from another world,” Frank said dramatically. He motioned his hands wide, encompassing the universe in a grandiose gesture. When all I did was continue to stare at him, he seemed disappointed and added, almost sulkily, “You don’t seem surprised. Either you already know, or you don’t believe me.”

“I know, and I believe you,” I said quietly.

“His name was Chagin Battler.”

Chagin. The name echoed through my mind, rolling around a few times as I tried it out in the privacy of my thoughts. Finally, I had a name to put to my father, even if I didn’t have a picture. I was the daughter of Chagin. I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean to me. I looked inward and didn’t feel any particularly good or bad thoughts.

“Would you like to know your real name?”

“My real name?” I frowned.

“Your parents named you Tayla, after your father’s mother. She’s still alive, you know.”

Tayla?
I had a grandmother who was still alive? “Where is she?”

“She works as a slave to Ral’e, the warrior king of the Brausa.” He shook his head with silent mirth, making his lips tremble.

“Why is that funny?” I asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

“I was paid by Ral’e to kill her son, and now she’s made to serve him that ordered the assassination—the warrior king.”

“Why? Why did this leader want my father dead?”

“He was a traitor.”

Chapter Twenty-One

This was a front-row seat to a show I’d wanted to see for years. I couldn’t believe I was actually hearing about my father, if Frank was to be believed. It didn’t feel like he was lying. He had no reason to lie at this point.

“The irony is, your father paid me to bring him to Earth to escape execution by his own people. In turn, they paid me to kill him. In essence, he paid his own executioner.”

The upsurge of anger I felt was surprising. Thinning my lips to keep from mouthing off, I asked, “Why would they call him a traitor?”

With a narrow-eyed stare that seemed to take him back in time, Frank took a few seconds to consider the question before he replied. “He was protesting the heavy-handedness and corrupt policies Ral’e was beginning to implement, and some of his people were starting to listen. There were whispers of revolt, talk of the peaceful movement their previous king had tried to move forward with. I must give it to him for having the courage of his convictions. He knew this would bring heavy censure, but I don’t think he believed his own leader was so corrupt that Ral’e would fabricate evidence against him.”

“So his king made up evidence against him and got rid of him.”

“That is correct. He was accused of infiltrating the ranks to help the Sunan people and sentenced to execution. In any case, he came to know that the warrior king was going to have him killed. He approached me and asked me to help him escape.”

“If you knew he was being set up, how could you kill him?”

Frank’s empty, soulless eyes looked down at me, and he tut-tutted, as though I were a foolish child. “Taylor, darling, why would I care about the Brausiian people? They’re filthy animals.”

I felt the sting of the comment, though I still frowned at him, frightened by how he could be so ruthless. I’d never been around anyone who was so conscienceless before. “So you helped him get to Earth and then killed him?”

“Not immediately. He was clever. There were years where I lost track of him. Your mother helped him. I don’t know how or when they met. Together, they very nearly managed to disappear. In time, they married and had you. Likely, your father thought I’d given up. I imagine he’d convinced himself to start over, begin a new life and forget his home planet.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” I asked, finally understanding why my mother might have had a breakdown. She’d never been able to talk about any of this. Who would have believed her? They would have thought she was nuts, especially considering there was likely no record of my father on this planet. Perhaps over time, she had convinced herself she’d imagined it all. It might have been easier than facing the reality.

But I was part of the reality
, a little hurt voice spoke up in my head.

“Hmm, why am I telling you this now, you ask? Maybe I like a good romance?” Frank replied with a winsome smile.

“But you killed him.”

“Of course I did. It was business, Taylor. Nothing personal. And when I finally kill you and your mother, I will have fulfilled my contract to Ral’e, who wanted all associated with your father, who knew the truth of the fabricated evidence, to be eliminated. You, however, are still useful to me alive at the moment.” Arching a thoughtful eyebrow, he added, “It has always bothered me that there were loose ends to that contract. The devil’s in the details, you know. It’s important to be professional. Your word has to mean something in this life, don’t you think?” His lips quirked up into a half smile, like he was just being playful.

He was nuts. Psycho. And he was going to kill me. I needed to get the hell out of here. Pronto! But how? I couldn’t manage the knots behind my back. I wondered if I could pull my arms under me, sort of work my body through the middle, and bring them to the front. Then I could use my teeth on the blasted knots, grab Paul and see if I could make this shit on my toe work properly. But I’d need to be alone. Somehow I doubted they were going to let me be alone.

I gazed out at the infinity pool, trying hard to think of a plan of action. That’s when I thought I saw movement. My eyes scanned the landscape frantically, desperately, but nothing seemed to be moving. It was just my wistful imagination.

“Alas, story time is over.” Frank stood, pocketed his gun and headed toward the dining room. “By the by, where is my mylunate, Taylor? I’ve been in sore need of it. Very inconvenient not to have it. Jory was not able to find it for me.”

“Ryder confiscated it,” I said quickly.

It was hard to tell if he believed me or not, but I was going to hold on to my mylunate, because even if I couldn’t make it work, at the very least, I had a onetime mental weapon I could unleash on whoever tried to hurt me. Of course, then I might pass out for five hours, but at least I wouldn’t be awake for the pain.

Coldly, he murmured, “Is that so. I could have simply plucked the information I need from Paul’s mind if you hadn’t taken it. You know, I’d only just hidden my ore in the kitchen drawer, so Reggie wouldn’t find it on my body and begin asking questions.”

Reggie!
That’s right!
Where was he?
“Did you kill Reggie?”

“No, and I’m afraid that he has become another of my dreaded loose ends. He realized I was skimming funds from his accounts and shut them down before disappearing. I will have to kill him, though I will be sorry to do so. He was truly enjoyable. He enjoyed being mastered.”

This was not information I wanted to dwell on. Reggie was alive, and while I didn’t think he was a terrific example of a human being, I didn’t think he deserved to be murdered. Hopefully, I would get a chance to warn him...

“I’m going to wait for my clients to arrive. I leave you in good hands.” He motioned to Crew Cut. “Do what is necessary to keep them in line, would you? With any luck, I should be back soon with reinforcements.”

“No problem.”

Crew Cut gave me a sickening grin as Frank exited. He was leaning against the wall on the far side of the room. His eyes roved over me as he relived his crimes from Vietnam, which continued to be in vivid detail in his memory. Above his fleshy cheeks, his lids grew heavy with his arousal.

Oh
,
my God.
I had to put up my mental shield against him to keep the images from feeding into my mind. They were tragic and sorrowful. I needed to think. I didn’t have the time be horrified.

“I got plans for you, buttercup. You and me are going to have some fun.” Crew Cut pushed himself off the wall and slowly walked toward me. My blouse stuck to my back and the middle of my chest as droplets of sweat gathered.

No
,
no
,
no!
I needed to stop him. “You’re going to have to wait your turn,” I offered quickly. “Frank’s not going to appreciate you screwing with me before he’s ready.”

“I won’t hurt you. Yet.” He sniggered and crouched beside me. He smelled like a mixture of stale cigarettes and body odor. My stomach protested, wanting to heave. He had reached his hands up to the collar of my shirt, like he was going to rip the buttons away, when inspiration struck.

“You ever do time for killing that Vietnamese girl?” I asked smoothly.

His eyes showed surprise. He obviously figured he’d gotten away with it. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” I forced myself to grin tauntingly.

In a menacing tone, he growled, “I didn’t do nuthin’.”

“You took the girl from her family. She was barely fourteen. You like doing little girls? You a child molester? Can’t get a real woman to fuck you?”

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” He stood swiftly and swung a kick at my leg with his steel-toed boot.

Pain crashed through my system, numbing my leg. I couldn’t help the cry that escaped my lips, but I didn’t let up. Maybe if I just kept him angry...

In a faint voice, I kept on. “I guess you’d need to be a real man, wouldn’t you? I bet you have one of those little penises. I bet some girl laughed at your little bitty piece of junk, didn’t she, and now all you can do is force little girls?”

“Shut up!” he raged, his face flushing as he kicked me again. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

I tried to ignore the pain, though tears shimmered in my eyes from the sickening throb.

“You probably covered up your crime, didn’t you? How many other little girls have you done over the years? Does Frank know? What about your partner, Hog? It’s okay. Leave it up to me. I won’t leave out a single detail when I share.”

“Shut the fuck up!” He came at me again, and I braced myself for the violence. I preferred being hit to being raped. His arm swung back. I squeezed my eyes closed... I waited... Nothing.

“
Lin’de
,” the achingly familiar voice rumbled near my ear.

“Ryder!” My eyes snapped open in disbelief. My heart throbbed in my throat at the sight of him, making it hard to talk. I spotted Crew Cut crumpled on the floor behind Ryder. “What...”

His strong arms encircled me, crushing me to his hard, muscular chest. His lips found my neck, seeming to inhale my scent quickly for reassurance before pulling back.

“Scared the shit out of me,” he grumbled fiercely. “I have things to say to you, but there’s no time now. We have to get you out of here.” He slid his hands down my arms to undo the knots in the ropes.

“Is he dead?” I asked.

“Very.”

“How did you get here?”

“Remember I put a tracking device on your phone?”

That’s right! Thankfulness smacked me straight on like a powerful wave. I’d stuck the phone down my shirt in the car, which was goddamn bloody brilliant of me, if I did say so myself.

“Did I ever thank you for that?” I asked with a watery smile.

“I don’t remember that being your first reaction.” He smirked. He managed to get the ropes untied, and the pins and needles shot up my arms. They’d gone numb being in that position for so long. With a hiss of pain, I let Ryder help me to my feet.

“Get rid of your shoes. I don’t want to make any more noise than is absolutely necessary.”

Without question, I slid them off, feeling the cold marble against my bare feet.

“Is he alive?” Ryder nodded toward Paul, taking a moment to rub my arms back into usefulness.

“He was twenty minutes ago. I hope he just passed out. He took such a beating!”

Ryder quickly checked the pulse at his neck. “He’s alive, but he’ll have to wait. We need to secure the perimeter.”

“Who’s with you?”

“Sy and my father’s personal team of six from Te’re.”

“His personal team?” My eyes widened.

“I’ll let him tell you.” Ryder stopped the line of questioning as he pulled me toward the sliding glass doors. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Then came the part that
really
felt like a horror movie.

A powerful arm snagged me from behind, yanking me firmly from Ryder. It was like a slow-motion dream. I could feel the pressure of being pulled away, the slow slide of our outstretched fingers sliding off each other. Ryder’s scowling confusion became savage ferocity, and an all-too-familiar voice spoke silkily.

“Too late, boys and girls.”

With a gun trained on my temple, I could do nothing but freeze. My blood turned cold. I felt my face drain of color. Frank was more than capable of killing me. Rosser was only a few feet away in a pool of his own blood. That could be me at any moment. I looked to Ryder, my heart pounding in my throat, and wanted to scream my frustration. Was he about to witness my execution?

“Ranik.” Ryder spat out the name, gnashing his teeth.

“Did you hurt Pen?” Frank shook his head sadly, looking down at Crew Cut. “And to think. All he ever wanted was to fix his teeth. He will be missed.”

“I thought you were waiting for your guests,” I snarled, tired of feeling thwarted. When the hell was this going to end? This episode was supposed to have wrapped up. Wasn’t the half hour over?

“A little birdy warned me that trouble was brewing on her way out. Seems she caught sight of some blue light. Now I need to leave the party early. It’s a shame, really. I was so close to concluding my business here.”

“The shame would be in you not leaving,” I taunted him, my frustration finding an out.

“What do you want?” Ryder growled, his eyes telling me to shut the hell up. “There’s nowhere for you to go. The house is surrounded.”

“Mylunate.”

“Done,” Ryder agreed. He reached into the neckline of his crewneck T-shirt and brought out the quarter-sized vial I’d seen there before. It made me angry to see Ryder have to give it up. Such beautiful craftsmanship had been made especially for him, to represent his energy, his spirit. It was wrong to think of Ranik’s filthy fingers touching something noble and pure.

“No! I have some.”

“Taylor!” Ryder glared at me.

I’m sure my expression read
What?
as I looked at him sharply.

“Oh, Taylor. You lied to me earlier. You are a bad girl. Now give it to me. Where is it?” His voice had lost its charming edge and was now just hard and uncompromising.

“On my toe.”

“Get it carefully. And, please, Senior Officer. No heroics. I’d hate to be jostled and accidentally pull the trigger. Would be a great big mess, don’t you think?” The barrel of the gun was still digging into my temple.

Ryder’s lip curled in reaction, his eyes boring holes into Frank’s.

I slowly knelt to pull the metal off my toe. It was like the thing had sunk roots into my brain or something, because I gasped in pulling it off. It was painful, like separating something that was a part of me, that had its tendrils wrapped around me, anchored into me. I had to grit my teeth to keep from crying out, but I did finally pull it loose. I hadn’t quite regained my equilibrium before Frank began a story.

“This piece of mylunate has history, Taylor. Your father found a small cache of the ore that was deep within one of the Brausiian Trenches and managed to get a piece of it for himself and a few close friends.”

“This piece was my father’s?” I asked, suddenly pained to hand it over, but Frank grabbed it and shoved it onto his own finger. After a moment of resistance, the metal liquefied and conformed to him.