Rose of Jericho (Lilith Adams Series Book 2) (27 page)

“That’s enough.” Lilith sprang out of semi-unconsciousness into complete horror. The only thing worse than Peisinoe was her master. Her eyes opened to see the mild face of the man who shot her father. Farren.  The slight hook to his prominent nose and the cold cruelty in his ancient eyes looked at odds with the softness of the rest of his face. Of course Lilith didn’t really care how odd his face was, all she wanted to do was put a bullet straight through it.

At Farren’s command, the band saw through her brain finally stopped, leaving only a heavy ringing echo. It felt like a bomb had just gone off in front of her. Cohen and Haverty slowly lost their looks of blind, blissful obedience. Timothy missed the whole show, still unconscious on the floor. Not that it mattered.

In a matter of seconds, all of them had their hands tied behind their backs with gunmen lording over them, except for Cohen. Apparently, Farren wanted the added insult of proving that he didn’t need to restrain Cohen to have him under control. Things had gone from bad to living nightmare in 2.3 seconds.

“Grandfather?” Cohen looked at Farren like he was the greatest unsolved mystery.

“Sir, Griffin just checked in. He’s informed the local police of the FBI raid on a terrorist cell. They are pulling back.” Farren nodded to his hired help and returned his attention to Cohen. The police weren’t coming. Lilith’s heart beat a little faster as it sank in. Farren could hold them here, do whatever he wanted and no one would ever come for them. Hell, the police would probably give him the key to the city when he was done.

“What is going on here?” Cohen still had that clueless look on his face, as if his brain refused to believe what he was seeing.

Farren’s old eyes narrowed with pure disdain. “
You
do not question
me
, Andrew. Where is it?” His thin lips curled into a snarl as he spit the words. Somehow Lilith doubted those two ever shared a happy, fluffy Christmas and Lilith would do everything in her power to ensure that Farren never saw another one.

“The book?” Cohen still seemed completely confused. Lilith wasn’t as lost and part of her wondered if this was just part of the pathetic persona Cohen pulled on for his grandfather. Could he really be blind enough to be genuinely confused? Farren wanted the book for himself. As soon as he thought he might get the cipher, he hired a crew to steal it, then sent a group to make sure Lilith didn’t find the book. The car crash and semi-automatic gunfire weren’t exactly subtle, but it was definitely Farren’s style.

The real question was what could possibly be so important about this damn book that Farren would risk circumventing the council like this? The rest of the demons in charge had to be as cutthroat and ruthless as Farren or he’d have taken control a whole lot sooner. Equally puzzling was the condition of the patsies. Killing them was understandable, but why the hell mutilate them in such a bizarre way? Was it simply a way to ensure that the council felt her specific talents were needed? And why the hell would he try to kill them off before they actually had the cipher? She was missing something critical to pull all the pieces together.

A loud crack knocked Lilith right out of her thoughts. She looked over to see Cohen reeling from a hard smack that left the whole side of his face burning red. Farren loomed over him with his cold eyes staring daggers into his grandson. Lilith struggled to contain the rising well of hate threatening to consume her with Farren so close.

“What else would I want, Andrew? Do not play stupid with me.” Farren reached out with surprising speed, snatching Cohen’s throat and drawing him in close. “Where is it?”

To his credit, Cohen remained fairly calm. Lilith got the feeling that the loathing and violence was a very familiar wound. “I don’t know…” Before Cohen could say anything else, Farren brought his forearm down with brutal force against Andrew’s face. The blow sent him sprawling to the floor as blood welled up on his cheekbone.

Cohen pushed himself up, wiping at his cheek. He stared at the blood on his hand and something burned bright inside of him, something Lilith recognized, hate. His olive eyes slowly looked up at Farren with all the years of abuse behind them. “I don’t know where your god damn book is! Ask your hired help!”

A sickening smile split Farren’s cruel, thin lips. “So there is some fight left in you.” He leaned down close to Cohen, his calculating eyes narrowing. “Let’s see if we can kill it, shall we?”

The knot of dread sprang back to life, coiling around her guts like a serpent devouring her from the inside out. Cohen’s eyes widened and Lilith could see his hurried breaths. He knew he’d overplayed his hand. Farren drew back up to his full height and walked down the line of hostages, never taking his eyes off of Andrew. Each step brought him closer to Lilith and she knew with absolute certainty that he would stop in front of her. Cohen’s eyes darting over to hers with a look of trepidation confirmed it.

“Sir, I could easily compel him to tell us.” Peisinoe’s voice was viciously confident which matched her shark-like smile. Apparently, she didn’t like Cohen any more than Lilith and she wasn’t keen on Farren hogging all the fun.

Farren stopped, his body rigid with anger. Somehow, Lilith didn’t think Farren was the sort of boss that appreciated suggestions, no matter how good they were. After all, Peisinoe was right. She could easily force him to tell them anything and Cohen knew more than even Farren was aware of. The thought of all those secrets spilling out terrified Lilith even more than the threat of being slapped around by Farren.

“I do
not
need to be reminded of your talents, Peisinoe. Hold your tongue or I’ll be forced to reevaluate your usefulness.” Farren hissed the words through gritted teeth. The ancient weight of his reprimanding tone and menace just seemed wrong coming from his middle-aged face.

“Marilyn’s” smugly confident look faltered and she actually shrunk back. “Of course.” Her ocean blue eyes fell to the floor and stayed there, her wavy platinum tresses hanging defensively in her face. She knew her place and didn’t dare even think of crossing Farren. Lilith couldn’t help but find some pleasure in the sight of this brash siren wilting under Farren’s heavy threats.

“My grandson has found something he cares about.” The “old” man swung the immense weight of his eyes to Lilith and narrowed them with sharp precision like a sniper taking aim. “Now he thinks he’s grown a spine.” A dark look passed over the smooth lines of his face that chilled Lilith to the bone. “I intend to rip it out.” With a looming sense of dread, Lilith realized that Farren definitely had more in mind than smacking her around a bit.

“No!” Cohen fought wildly as the flunky twisted his arm tight behind his back. Lilith was guessing something similar had happened before. Cohen knew what was coming and for him to fight like this, Lilith could guarantee she wasn’t gonna like it. “The book is downstairs in a mailbox! The key is on the kitchen table. Just take it!”

The cold, toothy smile that slithered across Farren’s thin lips reminded Lilith so much of Ashcroft that her stomach lurched. In this moment, Farren didn’t care about the book. He only cared about inflicting pain, emotional pain on Cohen and physical pain on whoever would do the most damage. It only made sense that Lilith would be the focus of his attention. Cohen didn’t really know any of the others.

Farren pulled his gun from its holster and gracefully crouched down in front of Lilith, his cold eyes studying her like an interesting insect. “Where is your little bodyguard?”

Lilith swallowed hard, unable to take her eyes off the gun. A gun just like the one he’d used to end her father’s life.

Farren used the barrel to lift her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes as her pulse quickened with fear and loathing. She hadn’t noticed the color before, but now she felt the chill of their icy blue hue. “He’s chasing a lead.” Even she was surprised how calm and even her voice sounded, especially when fine tremors were traveling all over her body. After all, here was the man that callously shot her father as casually as he’d brush an insect off his sleeve and he was mere inches away from her. She could feel the heat of his breath, hear his heartbeat, smell his overly expensive cologne. Hate churned in her stomach mixed with a healthy dose of horror.

“Obviously not a very good lead if I am here and he is not.” Farren’s head tilted to the side quizzically. He was toying with her like a cat playing with a bug before biting it in half. “Peisinoe. Get the key and retrieve the book. Call Valinski the second you have your hands on it and get back up here.” Farren’s eyes never left Lilith’s for a second, daring her to look away. There was no way she’d give him the satisfaction. Instead, she poured every ounce of venomous loathing she had into her eyes.

After five minutes of the most gut wrenching staring contest ever, a boring Samsung default ringtone cut through the silence. One of the henchmen dug in his pocket and answered his phone. That had to be Valinski getting his call from Peisinoe. The man nodded to Farren and then hung up.

Farren stayed crouched in front of Lilith, the very proximity sending Lilith’s stomach into a continuous round of flip flops. “Berman, we no longer need Mr. Haverty. Please thank him for his services.”

Another of the guards, presumably Berman, grabbed Haverty by his handcuffs and dragged him to his feet. “Wait! Where’s my check? I did exactly as you asked!” Lilith knew firsthand how deadly making demands could be when it came to Farren. Of course, he was dead already. There was no way Farren would leave a loose end as insignificant as a hired human thief. He no longer had a purpose and Farren didn’t keep anything he couldn’t use.

Berman ushered Haverty roughly into the back room and closed the door. Farren didn’t have a weak stomach and he definitely didn’t care about upsetting his other prisoners. There was only one reason she could think of for Farren having him killed in another room.

Berman had to be setting the stage. Considering their cover story with the cops, they were probably setting Haverty up as the terrorist mastermind. The room already looked like a command center. A few bomb schematics and some blueprints of New York buildings and viola! Instant terrorist. There was no use trying to take away a body when there was no real risk in leaving it.

There were sounds of a struggle and then one fateful gunshot that made Lilith flinch. Minutes later, Berman rejoined them in the living room carrying a satchel full of papers, most likely all the schematics and plans for the robbery. He silently took his place behind Nicci. She looked shaken but she was smart enough to keep her mouth shut.

Being a vampire didn’t mean that you lived a life of violence, no matter what the movies said. They had the pills and blood from the labs to deal with their condition and they’d been around for at least the past hundred years. Even being a cop didn’t necessarily mean you were used to dealing with violence on this cold and calculated level. Lilith had pretty much lived through hell the past two weeks and she still wasn’t immune to the gravity of the situation.

“I’ve got it. It was right where Andy said it would be.” Peisinoe breezed into the room clutching the ancient little book. The book Duncan wrote while he lived in Scotland with Gregor. The book that contained the story of Mary, Ashcroft and his son, Clyde. The book that held every atrocity that Gregor committed in the name of his murdered daughter. The book that signed Gregor’s death warrant.

Lilith was still struggling with the complex emotions flooding her senses when she felt the cold metal of a gun barrel pushing her chin up again. With a jolt of paralyzing fear, she stared right into Farren’s ancient eyes only inches from her own.

“It would seem that I no longer require your services.” Tears welled in Lilith’s eyes as he dug the barrel into the tender flesh under her jaw. It didn’t matter what Chance found now. Farren had what he wanted. Game over.

“Wait! Don’t!” Cohen shoved himself forward violently, breaking the hold the guard had on him and landing face first on the hardwood.

Farren tilted his head and studied Lilith’s face like some sort of interesting specimen. “I do believe my grandson wishes to spare you.” A cruel smile split his lips that said he had no intention of complying. In fact, he was more than happy to squash his grandson’s wishes in spectacular fashion.

He was probably the kind of grandfather that bought his grandson a puppy, let the kid hold it and then snapped its neck right in front of him. Lilith’s heart hammered in her chest violently as she struggled to draw in slow breaths. As hard as she’d fought to survive, it all came down to this, Farren’s deep desire to hurt Cohen any way he could.

Farren stood, keeping the pressure on the gun which forced Lilith to her feet. The cold metal pinched her skin, drawing a whimper from her. Farren took in a deep breath as if relishing her fear and pain. Of course he was. He wasn’t just an emotion sucking demon, he had a taste for agony, just like Ashcroft, although he was more into emotional pain over the physical.

The click of Farren pulling back the hammer of his gun echoed in Lilith’s ears with the sound of finality. She wanted to say something, anything to stop him, but she knew it would only fuel his fire. There was nothing she could do, not with the gun pressed tight under her chin and an armed guard at her back.

“No! Farren!” Lilith could barely see Cohen out of the corner of her eye. He looked up from the floor in sheer panic and desperation. “She knows where the cipher is!”

Lilith squeezed her eyes closed, one tear trailing down her cheek as Cohen’s words hung in the air. It was the only card she wouldn’t use. Sure, it
might
save her, but it would point Farren and Peisinoe right at Chance. That was the one thing she couldn’t live with.