Courting the Darkness (4 page)

He shrugged in response, sitting back against the couch. “Drake believes that she might be powerful enough to cast a spell so that we may go out in the daylight.”

Mica smiled this time. “Drake says she cast a spell on herself a hundred years ago, and she hasn’t aged a day since. He says she’s no old crone.”

“Okay, I still think this is a waste of our time.” He shrugged, shaking his head in thought. “But since I don’t have anything better to do, I’m in. When do we leave?”

“Drake said that the trial will be short and the execution swift.” Mica looked at his watch. “They have about a twelve hour head start on us. That means we have to leave now.”

Caleb jumped up, grabbing his jacket. “Let’s go. Since dawn is in about six hours, you take the first shift.”

He stood, slapping his friend on the back. “Thanks for coming along.”

“No problem.” They walked out the front door. Caleb turned, closing the door behind them. Following Mica, he stopped short of the van. “Is this what you call a van?” He whistled through his teeth. “This Express Van is nice, but what about the windows?”

“That’s just a technicality.” Mica held out the remote and pushed a button. “Check this out.” A small motor hummed and a steel plate rose up to the top of the vehicle, covering each of the back windows, making it totally dark on the inside. “These plates are invisible from the outside with the tinted windows, and they’re bullet proof. All the glass is bullet proof too.” He opened the hatch, throwing back the rug. “We also have a complete arsenal at our disposal, but I don’t think it will come to that. I can take care of Hargrove with my bare hands.”

Caleb ran his hand over the high-tech weaponry in appreciation. “Drake sure has some fancy toys.”

“Yeah, he does.” He covered them back up with the rug. “This should be an in and out job.” Smiling wickedly, he turned, facing his friend. “But I’m kind of hoping it’s not. I hope Hargrove puts up a huge fight. I’m restless and I need to work out this excess energy. I’m itching to knock a few heads together.”

Caleb laughed. “I’ve been a little restless myself lately.” Shaking his head, he walked to the passenger side of the Express Van, looking over the top of it at Mica. “I’m kind of anxious to see what a hundred and twenty-five year old witch looks like.”

Mica shrugged, climbing inside. “I don’t care what she looks like. Witches are trouble.” Sitting behind the wheel, he started the engine. “The sooner we get this rescue over with and get Drake back his witch, the better.”

* * *

Hargrove pulled the minivan to the curb in front of the inquisition center. He cut the engine, turning around to look over the backseat. “We’re here. I hope you’ve made your peace with God.”

Desiree had indeed been praying to God for the last two hours. She had been praying that she could get that gag off and turn that jerk into the jackass that he was. As it was, all she could do was glare at her captor.

Jason walked around to the passenger side of the van, opening the sliding door. Desiree closed her eyes to the glare of the early morning sunrise. He laughed. “Look at you, all trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey.” Squirming, she fought her bindings in fury. “Go ahead and squirm, it just makes it more pleasurable for me. I want to see you suffer.”

He reached in the minivan, picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder in an undignified position. She bounced painfully on his shoulder with every step he took into the building. Throwing open the door, he waved at the guard. “Hi, Hank. Is her cell ready?”

Smiling, Hank nodded. “Sure is Jason. You made it in record time too.”

“I’m not taking any chances with this one. She’s crafty.” Jason grunted, shifting her weight to the other shoulder. “She got away from my daddy fifty years ago, and I’m not about to let it happen to me.”

“Thanks,” he threw the reply over his shoulder as he carried her down the hall. “You’ve finally made it to your new home witch.” Dumping her onto the dirty cot unceremoniously, she bounced from the impact. “Don’t get too comfortable, you’re trial is at four this afternoon, and I’m sure they’re gonna burn you at sunrise.” He untied her hands and feet, exiting her cell, slamming the door shut behind him.

* * *

Desiree could barely move her screaming muscles, but pure will and determination allowed her to reach up, untying her gag, working her jaw to ease the stiffness. Raising her hands before her, she visualized the energy ball she was going to conjure to throw at him, but all that happened was a spark and a puff of smoke. She looked at her hands in disbelief.

Jason laughed. “What’s the matter, witch?” He grabbed a hold of the bars. “Where’d your powers go?”

She shook her fists in frustration and confusion. “I—I—what did you do to me?”

“You can’t use your powers here,” he sneered. “There are amulets buried all around your cell to prevent you from casting any spells. I had this cell prepared especially for you.”

Running up to the door, she wrapped her fingers around the bars, violently shaking them. “I will get out of here, and when I do, I will make you pay.”

He stood back just out of her reach. “Ooh, I’m so scared. Not.”

“Come a little closer and tell me that. I’d love to punch you right in the nose!” She shook the bars again. “It might not do me any good, but it sure would make me feel better to see you squeal like the pig you are.”

He stepped closer, wrapping his hands around hers in a painful grip around the bars. He grinned evilly. “I don’t think you’re capable of that.”

She gritted her teeth from the pain; he was close enough to smell his foul breath. She smiled, kneeing him in the groin through the bars. Releasing her hands, he doubled over, coughing and sputtering. Reaching through the bars, she grabbed his shirt and punched him in the nose. Tossing her head, she slung her hair back over her shoulder in satisfaction. “Now I feel better.”

Jason fell to the ground, one hand holding his groin, the other holding his bleeding nose. “You’ll pay for that, bitch!”

“Maybe I will, but I won’t go quietly.” She threw her chin up defiantly. “Oh, by the way, Jason Hargrove, I wouldn’t close my eyes if I were you.” She placed her hands on her hips, and grinned as she watched Jason slowly pick himself up off the floor. He remained bent over, bracing his knees. His immense pain was still evident in his actions. “I was expected at the vampire’s lair last night. I was under orders from Drake to be there. You see, they wanted to keep me captive too. Since I didn’t show up last night, I’m sure they sent someone to find me. When they trace me back to you, you’re a dead man.”

She saw the fear start to fill his eyes. “You lie! You don’t even know Drake. Vampires avoid witches.”

“I never lie. I told you I’d punch you in the nose and I did.” She threw her head back, laughing hysterically. “Drake commanded me there, and he’s going to come looking for you when he can’t find me. You can’t mask your scent. You know vampires have a very keen sense of smell. They’re vicious killers, and it’s almost impossible to hide from them. They’ll hunt you down like the dog you are. I just hope I live long enough to see them kill you.”

“They’ll be too late to save you.” He paced in front of the cell in agitation. “Since they can only travel at night, they won’t make it in time. You’ll burn first, and I’ll hightail it out of here right after the show. I’ll stay far enough ahead of them that they’ll never catch me.”

She reached up, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes. “You just keep trying to convince yourself of that.”

“You’re a vengeful bitch! I’ll be back before four to take you to stand before the judges.” He tried to sound menacing, but most of the passion was lost when he was forced to think of fleeing.

She laughed, shooing him on with a gesture of her hand. “You do that. When it’s all said and done, I’ll see you in hell.”

He glared and then stormed off down the hall, muttering under his breath.

She turned, walking over to the dirty cot and plopping down. All of her confidence was to make Jason suffer. She was not confident at all that a rescue was going to happen. “Come on, Drake, don’t let a girl down.”

CHAPTER FIVE

The sound of rattling chains roused Desiree from her fitful sleep. Jason stood at her cell door, smiling smugly, holding a length of chains and manacles. His sides were flanked by two armed guards. “It’s time for your judgment, witch.”

Lifting her head, she smiled smugly at the bandage across his nose. It gave her immense satisfaction to know that she broke it. “What’s the matter, Jason, am I too much woman for you to handle that you need backup?” she taunted, and the two guards laughed.

The arrogant smile disappeared from his face; instead, it twisted into a savage scowl. “Bitch!” He turned to the guards, pointing in her direction. “Hold her down while I put on these chains.”

The two guards advanced on her as she backed up as far as she could go on the cot. “Hold her hands and feet. I don’t want to be a target again," Jason ordered, and the two guards laughed again. Desiree did not fight the guards. Jason leaned down to put a manacle on her wrist. Seeing an opportunity, she leaned forward, sinking her teeth in his cheek, drawing blood. He reared back in surprise. “Filthy hag!” he yelled, backhanding her across the face.

Her head rocked with the force of the blow, momentarily stunning her. Raising her head, she smiled smugly, blood dripping from her busted bottom lip. “Tic, tic, tic…” she taunted. “It’s just a matter of time before Drake gets his vengeance.” She laughed. “Those vamps will drain you dry and leave you to rot for the buzzards.”

Jason clenched his fists, shaking with rage. “Shut up!”

Her head throbbed from the blow, but the smile remained. He viciously yanked on the chains to her wrists. “Stand up!”

She stumbled to her feet. Holding out her hands, she looked down at her chains, the smile dropping from her face. Looking back up, she raised her chin defiantly, glaring at him.

Raising his hands over her head, he placed an amulet around her neck. “We can’t take any chances.” He smiled spitefully. “Let’s see you get in any pot shots now.” Grabbing her manacled wrists, he dragged her down the hall. “Let’s not keep the judges waiting.”

She looked around in desperation, and all hope of escape dwindled when the two guards flanked her side.

Jason stopped in front of the courtroom, guarded by security. “Open up. I have brought the witch for the trial.”

The two guards nodded, opening the doors. Jason dragged her inside the nearly empty room. A judge’s bench sat across the front with three unoccupied chairs. A large cross hung on the wall behind the desk. Jason led her to the only other furniture in the room, a podium with a railing. Handcuffing her manacles to the railing, he stepped back, smiling triumphantly. “Now witch, you need to prepare to meet your God.”

Desiree reared back, spitting in his face to show her contempt.

He slapped her again, hard across the face. Reaching inside his pocket, he retrieved a handkerchief and wiped the spittle off his face. Leaning forward, he spoke low so only she could hear. “I hope they let you live a day or two. I will look forward to torturing you before your execution. I will have you begging for death.”

She heard every word he said through a haze of pain, her head reeling from the blow. She took a deep breath for courage. “Tic…tic…tic…” She smiled through swollen lips. He reared his hand back to slap her again.

“Enough!” a voice of authority commanded him from the front of the room. “Do not touch the demon, lest you be judged yourself.”

Jason’s eyes grew wide. Backing away from Desiree, he turned to stand beside her, facing the judges. “My apologies, your honor.”

During their confrontation, the three judges had entered the room, taking their seats. They wore black robes and powdered wigs from the days of old.

The center judge pounded the gavel, taking charge. “Mr. Hargrove, state your case.”

Stepping forward, Jason gestured to Desiree theatrically. “Your honors, I bring you Desiree Dupuis. She is a witch.”

The three judges observed her skeptically. They conferred quietly together, seeming to come to a unanimous decision. Sitting back in his chair, the center judge crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Jason. “She looks normal to us.”

Tilting his head, he pointed to Desiree. “She is a hundred and twenty-five years old,” he sneered happily. “If that’s not witchcraft, then what is?”

Standing up, the center judge slammed his hands against the desk. “Young woman, is that true? Are you a hundred and twenty-five years old?”

She frantically searched her mind for an answer. Lying was not one of her strong points, but it was that, or they would sentence her to die, so she said the first thing that popped into her mind. “Is this some kind of a joke? This man is lying! I’m only twenty-five. This is a farce!”

The middle judge blew out a forceful breath, glaring at Jason skeptically. “Mr. Hargrove, you better have proof, or you will be the one we’ll be judging.”