Dangerous Tides (48 page)

It was a simple thing, but even in the midst of her fears, Libby felt a burst of warmth for his consideration. He'd probably never thought to remember such a simple thing before. "What is this?" she asked, taking the bottle from him.

Tyson reached for the phone. "I've been trying to gather up everything I might need for the other lab and salvage as much as I could. Everything's a mess. That was on the floor near the other chemicals. It's a wonder the entire house didn't blow up with the compounds I have down here." He hit the phone against the work table. "That's a bottle of methoxyethanol. I was wondering why I bought it." He looked up at her, his expression serious. "The phone's dead, Libby. Damn it. Let's get the hell out of here."

Above them, they both became aware of crackling noises coming from the kitchen. They exchanged a long look of knowledge and dread.

"Is there another way out?" Libby asked. "There has to be another way out."

"Don't panic." Tyson's voice was grim. He went up the stairs, his tread deliberately light. He put his hand against the door and quickly removed it. "He's started a fire, Libby, and this time, I don't think any sprinkler's going to put it out. I can already hear the flames in the kitchen and the door's hot."

"He's burning down the house on top of us?"

Tyson hurried down the stairs to her. "Listen to me, baby. I have to get Sam out. He's upstairs asleep. He took sleeping pills and he's been out all day. You're going to have to go for help."

She wrapped her fingers in his shirt and held on. "We should stick together."

He shook his head, sweeping things off his table until he found the small flashlight he was looking for. "You know better." He pulled her over to a small door and handed her the light. "We've used this tunnel to get to the beach since we were little kids. If you run along the beach about a quarter of a mile, there's a path leading back up to the highway. The moon's full, Libby, that means the tides are unusually high, so be careful, don't get out beyond the first line of rocks."

He yanked open the door and pushed her into the narrow tunnel. "Go."

"Wait." Libby felt panic welling up. "What are you going to do? At least get out of the house this way."

"I won't have enough time to get to Sam. Don't worry about me. I know what I'm doing. Hurry, Lib. Get the fire department and the sheriff. Hell, get
everyone
here." He kissed her hard and shoved her away from him.

Libby hesitated, but he had a look of absolute, determined resolve. She turned and ran down the dark tunnel, clicking on the flashlight to show her the way. The tunnel was dank and musty, mostly held up with ancient timbers that didn't look too sturdy to her. It had to be part of an old smuggler's route, much like the one they discovered beneath the old mill Kate had bought a few months back.

The tunnel led steadily down toward the pounding sea. She could hear the ocean and feel the coolness of the night on her face. As she went down farther, the tunnel was extremely narrow until, as she rounded a bend, it widened into a small cave. Hesitating, she flashed the light over the ground. Her heart leapt in her throat and she stared at the large footprints in the dirt. They were fresh and they were everywhere. She turned to go back, but she heard the distinct sound of heavy breathing.

Libby froze. The breeze drifted to her from somewhere in the interior of the chamber. The draft felt like the sea, salty and cool, spreading out to waft through the tunnel and return to surround her, bringing back a scent she was familiar with. She held her breath, afraid to move or speak, afraid even to think.

"Liiiiibbeee." Icy fingers of fear went down her spine. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Her heart thundered in her ears so loud she wasn't certain she heard that low whisper.

"Liiiiibbeee." Her name was drawn out a second time, a long eerie undertone floating on the breeze along with that scent. Libby pressed one hand against her mouth, afraid a sound might escape as she tried to reach into her memory to identify when she'd smelled that particular cologne.

Her mind seemed numb, sluggish with mounting terror. Terror kept her paralyzed, holding her in one spot while she fought to think. Maybe she just didn't want to know. Maybe the knowledge was too terrible and she couldn't face it. The thought crept in unbidden as the light wind touched her face. Because she knew exactly who crept through the tunnel stalking her. She had probably known all along but just couldn't face the truth.

"Tyson." She whispered his name, aching for him as the realization swept over her. For a moment heartbreak for him sent anger coursing through her. Just the knowledge alone would kill Tyson.

Her anger gave her courage. "Sam. I know you're there."

There was a heartbeat of silence. The disembodied voice came out of the darkness. "You just couldn't leave him alone."

Libby turned toward the cave, shielding the light as she swept the interior. She had no idea if Sam was behind her or in front of her. If she were lucky, she might find a place to hide. Once she knew his location, she could get past him and go for help. Tyson would be gone already, working his way through a burning house to try to save the very man who had worked so hard to kill him.

She spotted a crevice toward the left side of the cave. She was small and might fit. Libby skirted around an opening in the cave floor that, when she flashed the light, dropped straight down fifteen feet to a rocky surface. She clicked off the light and slid into the crevice, her heart pounding, her throat raw with fear.

"Libby. Oh, Libby. Don't you want to play with me? I saw how you liked to play with Ty."

His voice was chilling. Sam sounded as if he were enjoying the cat and mouse game, wanting to heighten her fear—and it was working. Had he sounded closer? She heard the drip of water. Was that his breathing? Libby closed her eyes, but that terrified her more and she snapped them open, her gaze darting around the small chamber. It was so dark. Too dark. Wrapping her fingers around the small flashlight, her only weapon should Sam find her, she held it in close to her body, concealed in her fist.

"I took a lot of pictures of you, Libby." The voice floated to her out of the cold and dark. "Standing there up against the glass, whoring yourself out for money."

Libby pressed her hand over her mouth to keep a sob from escaping. His voice was turning creepy. Evil. Hate spewed out of him, coloring his tone as he taunted her.

"You're such a little slut. I'll bet it turns you on knowing I was watching. You must have been pretty good for him to want to marry you. I never would have guessed."

His voice definitely sounded closer. There was a slight echo in the chamber. Did that mean he was standing near the entrance? Had he come from behind her, or ahead of her? She couldn't freeze up. She had to think, not panic. She wanted to scream for Tyson. For her sisters. She wanted Sam to go away. She couldn't answer him. She had to keep silent or it would give away her position.

Without warning a picture sprang to vivid life in her mind. Tyson battled his way through a burning house, flames all around him, above and below, streaking up the walls and running across the ceiling. The images were so dramatic that she knew she was sharing her mind with Elle. She clung to her sister, holding the connection tightly, terrified for Tyson, frightened for herself.

A light suddenly bounced through the chamber, swept past the crevice and continued in a circle. Libby shrank back as far as she could, choking back an audible gasp, unable to take her petrified gaze from Sam. She couldn't make out any features as he stood behind the light, but he seemed taller. Broader. Stronger. More a monster than a human being.

To her horror, the light swept in a second circle, went beyond her hiding place, hesitated, and slowly traveled back, to spotlight her. "There you are. I knew you couldn't have gone far." The voice sounded smug this time. Much more like Sam.

Libby struggled out of the crevice, standing upright to face him, chin up, eyes steady. Her hands shook, but she had the presence of mind to keep the small flashlight hidden, tucked safely in her fist against her leg. She was afraid to speak, knowing her voice would wobble, and she wanted to appear fearless.

He snickered. "You look like a deer caught in the headlights. Your eyes take up half your face you're so scared. How the hell could Ty ever fall for a little mousy thing like you?"

So much for looking fearless. Libby remained silent, trying to figure out how she could get around him to get back into the tunnel.

"I suppose Ty, ever the hero, is upstairs trying to save me." Sam sighed. "I tried to warn him. I tried to keep him safe. Burning is a hell of a way for him to die."

Her heart contracted painfully. Abruptly Sam switched off the light, leaving her in total darkness. She heard a whisper of movement and her sister's alarm echoing through her mind. Libby sprang forward, determined to get past Sam. She was small, she could be the little mouse he thought her and squeak by.

Sam caught her hair, yanked her backward. She stumbled, crying out at the pain. He transferred his hold to her wrist, dragging her to him. Libby slammed the bottom of the flashlight as hard as she could on the back of his hand, turned her wrist and drove the metal into his cheekbone. He let go of her, cursing, swinging his fists at her as he stumbled away from her. One punch caught her in the chest, knocking her back. It wasn't a hard blow—just enough to make her lose her balance, forcing her to take a couple of steps back. She hit air.

Frantically she threw out both arms, trying to find something to save her. She fell straight down through the hole in the floor of the cavern, to the rocky surface below. She hit hard, heard the crack of her bone as her leg snapped in two. The pain drove the breath from her body and tore a scream from her throat.

Mocking laughter floated down from above her and the sound steadied her. She drew in deep gulps of fresh ocean air. Looking around her, she could see that there was an opening cut into the cliff face by the continual assault of the water. It was only a few feet away, yet it might as well have been a mile. Her leg was bent at an awkward angle and she could see the bone jutting up through her skin. Her skin was clammy and she recognized signs of shock.

"Hurt yourself, did you?" Sam taunted. "Where's your hero now? Where are your sisters with all their magic? You're all alone. Mine to kill whenever I want."

Libby fought to stay conscious, to keep her mind clear. Sam was definitely a sociopath. She had been in his way all along and by refusing to give up Tyson, she had sealed her fate. Poor Ty. He had never realized how good old affable Sam, so charming and caring, turned into something altogether different when he was thwarted.

She reached out with her left hand, found a raised portion of rock and gripped it, gritting her teeth hard and dragging herself forward by inches. The edges of her tibula ground together. Sweat beaded on her body and for a moment, white spots danced in front of her eyes. She breathed deeply to keep from fainting.

She heard Sam moving above her, a strange brushing she couldn't quite identify. She turned her face up toward the hole, struggling to listen—to see. He was definitely up to something. Small rocks rained down on her, pelting her on the head and shoulders. She covered up with her arms, the movement jarring her. She
had
to move before he found anything bigger to dump on her.

She searched for another hand hold and finding none, she forced herself to drag her body closer to the wide opening on the cliff face. Tears streamed down her face and twice she threw up. If it had been a regular break instead of a compound fracture, she could have easily begun the healing process, but she had to press the bone back together and she knew the pain would be excruciating. She couldn't do that and risk passing out until she was safe from Sam.

The light shone down. "I see blood, Libby. Did you cut yourself? Are you slowly bleeding to death?"

Libby rested her head on a jutting rock, dragging air into her lungs, trying to breathe away the pain. "I'll bet you tortured little animals for your own enjoyment."

"I'd never do that. Not unless they were stupid enough to get in my way."

Libby pulled herself closer to the opening, away from the pool of light spilling down. She took the journey an inch at a time until she reached the very edge of the cliff. About six feet below her was the sea, waves crashing against the rock, spraying water, salt and foam into the small cavern. The walls were sheer in both directions. She was truly trapped with the water rising quickly.

She rested, deliberately tuning out the scraping sounds she heard coming from above her. Drawing a ragged breath, she faced the water and raised her hands to the skies, calling for the wind. She was shocked at the strength of the response. Her sisters were waiting, all of them; she felt the connection leaping from sister to sister.

A large rock crashed down from above. Sam flashed the beam of light around, trying to catch sight of her, but she was out of the reach of the illumination. She watched in horror as he dropped a rope through the opening.

The wind returned to her, howling with anger, shrieking as it raced through the cavern. Fog and mist poured into the small confines, quickly filling it, surrounding Libby, brushing her face and body with small droplets of water. Feminine voices rose on the wind, calling out, weaving a spell of magic in the mist. Strength and resolve flowed into her. She took a deep breath, clung for one moment to the mind bond she had with Elle, and then put both hands over the jagged bone protruding through her skin, applying pressure and manipulating it back in place.

She thought she screamed. She heard screaming, but it came from a distance and she couldn't identify the voice as her own or one of her sisters. She vomited again, reduced to the dry heaves as she sobbed and sweat drenched her body. Once she almost passed out, only to be prodded awake by the relentless wind.

A wave crashed against the cliff sending icy water into the cavern. She gasped as it drenched her. She'd forgotten. The earth, sun and the moon were in a line. It was a full moon and the tide would be extremely high. She had to hurry. Once again she lifted her arms toward the opening, sending the wind back to her sisters, conveying the urgency of her situation.