Devil Hath Come (an FBI/Romance Thriller ~book 7) (73 page)

Inside
, they were left two presents. There was a ponytail and Ethan’s butchered hair, and a decapitated raven.

Elizabeth managed a strangled sob at the sight of his hair hacked off so brutally
. The depravity of having it offered up in a gift for her made everything that much worse. The dead bird was more than she could take. The vision of it reminded her of the tattoo on his beautiful chest. It all dawned on her that the birds on the crime scenes and the spilled raven blood had nothing to do with her. She’d been warned the entire time what the killer’s ultimate plan had been.

They’d been too arrogant to see it.

He wasn’t just after Elizabeth. He wanted to break her and he’d managed to do just that.

The tears fell as shock took over.

Now, she was helpless to it.

The gray came and overtook her
, even as she fought valiantly to stay awake.

Before
Elizabeth knew it, she was falling into the void and screaming for the man who she had allowed to be hurt.

There was talking around her, and then
nothingness as Elizabeth fainted.

Finally, she may have met her match.

Callen held her against his body,
and he was scared for his family and unsure what to do. This was a new thing to him. Generally, when fear overtook him, he could run to his big brother and Elizabeth. Now, he was the last one standing.

This was all on his shoulders, just as his grandfather had
predicted in his dream. Callen knew that it was time to man up and take control.

“What do you want me to do,” Chris said, kneeling in front of Elizabeth to check her pulse. “She’s in shock.”

Cyra came over in a pair of gloves and began picking up the box and hair that had fallen to the ground.

“Grab everything, we’ll head inside and get out of the open. Then I need a minute to regroup and think about what we need to do.”

“Are you going to call in back up?” Chris asked. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was scared for his boss at the hands of this lunatic.

Callen’s initial response was to say yes, since that’s what the FBI always taught them. No matter what happened in the field, you called for backup if your partner went down.

Well, now he was down two.

“No.
We’re going to do this a little differently. If I was the one gone, my brother wouldn’t risk me. We were warned, and I’ll buy him some time to get away from this fucker. Let’s get all this upstairs and go from there.”

Chris knew this all just fell onto Callen’s shoulders. “Okay, you’re the
boss now.”

That one sentence added to his terror. Now
, it was his decision if his brother lived or died.

Callen prayed
that he would be able to live with the consequences if it all ended badly. He had made the decision, and it was all on him. “Let’s go.”

He scooped Elizabeth up into his arms, and headed for the
back door of the hotel. It looked like he was on his own. Sending out a prayer, he whispered for the man he hoped was listening.

“Granddad, I need you right now. Please help guide me to do what’s right.”

He waited for a reply and heard nothing.

Great, he
was officially on his own and Elizabeth, their father, and his three kids were all counting on him to not drop the ball.

Pushing it from his mind, he stayed focused. “Come
on, we have a killer to catch and not much time to do it in.”

                                *   *   *

Slowly, the darkness began to slip away. At first there was nothing but confusion at where he was, but as the minutes ticked by, he began to re-piece the events together in his mind. He’d gone to get their dinner and retrieve the dog’s food.

That was his plan.

Struggling, he remembered the rest. He’d been hit on the head and taken by the killer. He was almost afraid to open his eyes, since he already knew his prospects were grim. He didn't move a muscle, afraid to signal that he was awake.

Scanning his body, he could feel ropes binding his legs. They weren’t together, and from his sitting position, he could tell he was in a chair.
It only took a minute to acclimate himself and realize that his head was facing down. He slowly opened his eyes. His wrists and elbows were bound to the arms of the chair with duct tape. There was a thick layer holding him there. He knew that there was no way he could pull himself free of that.

He also noticed that
there were drops of blood landing on his khaki pants as they rolled down his cheek. There was a breeze on the back of his neck, and something didn't feel right.

Then it occurred to him that t
he familiar weight of his ponytail was gone too.

The bastard had cut off all his hair.

If he ever got free, he was going to show him what a scalping really and truly was. He thought about his wife, and how she loved running her fingers through it, and then he analyzed the man’s actions. He would have lopped it off with intent. He wanted to scare Elizabeth and make her vulnerable.

Shit! That just might do it too.

They were right about him watching them. The asshole had studied them well.

Wiggling his fingers, he tried to get the circulation to return to his extremities, in case he had the opportunity to fight. Already he could feel the telltale tingle retuning. As he stared down at his ring finger, he noticed his wedding ban
d was gone.

For some reason, that hurt more than losing all his hair. The man stripped him of the one reminder
that he had of his union with his wife.

That was h
is lifeline to his heart.

So began the psychological torture.

In his head, he began to pray. He wasn’t a religious man, since being raised in the Native community. There was no church or talk of salvation. Yet now, he prayed for it. If not for him, then let it be for his wife, brother and his three children. They needed him and in all honestly, he wanted more time.

Call it greedy, but this wasn’t how he saw his life ending. There was always the slow quiet death of old age, as his wife and brother stayed by his side. Then
, he’d wait for them, so their journey into the afterlife would be together as one.

Now
, fear had him by the balls. It wasn’t looking good at all. Ethan knew that if the man didn't kill him immediately, he only had about twelve to twenty four hours until his death warrant was officially signed.

It was time to take control of the situation.

Lifting his head, he noticed the man sitting not far from him, watching him. It pissed him off that they stared into the face of madness and were deceived by his happiness and seeming normalcy. When in truth, he was as crazy as they come.

“I was wondering if I hit you too hard
. I needed you to wake up,” he stated laughing.

“
I guess you have your answer.”

He didn't move from his chair. “You’re going to tell me how to break her and get her to come to me,” he demanded.

Ethan’s laughter was filled with entertainment. “Yeah, I wouldn’t bet on that. I’m not betraying my wife to you.”

He shrugged. “You will.”

The conversation was ending there. Ethan was well aware that his hell was about to begin, but no matter what he did to him, there’d be no betrayal. He had to believe that no matter what, they would find him.

Alive, wounded
, or dead, his wife would search for him.

They ha
d just made that vow and it gave him solace. He’d find her no matter where she went, and she would do the same. It may only be his bones when they located him, after being picked clean by vultures and other scavengers, but Elizabeth wouldn’t give up.

He had to believe it.

“Nothing huh? Well, then we’ll have to make you talk.”

Ethan watched as he moved towards him knife in his hand and ready to use it. Taking a deep breath, he tried to push down the fear and slow his heart, like the FBI
had taught them. He was going through protocol procedures, praying they would help keep him alive.

Blackhawk
was a captive and he needed to prepare for reality.

He was a dead man.

As the killer placed the tip of the knife besides his jugular, he stopped moving all together. Part of him wanted the maniac to end it. The rest wanted him to buy them time.

The cold steel rested against his
flesh, the tip beneath the collar of his shirt. Ethan waited for it, knowing it was either death or pain.

One was coming, and it was only a matter of which it would be. His fate was being decided by a madman
, and he refused to bargain with the devil. 

“
Let’s try this one last time, Director Blackhawk. Tell me how to break Elizabeth and get her to come to me. If you assist me, then I’ll end it peacefully for you. You’re of no use to me. My dark Lord doesn’t want you. He wants your wife. Soon, she’ll be my bride on that altar.”

“Fuck off
!” he said, not even entertaining that visual.

With one quick motion, the knife slid down his body, slicing his shirt open and leaving a trail of bleeding flesh in return.

Ethan’s body bowed, and he screamed in pain as the searing heat ripped through him. Fighting for air, he stared down at the tip of the knife touching parts of his body that he and Elizabeth enjoyed a great deal.

“Still nothing?”

Ethan shook his head and expected more slicing of his flesh. Instead, his face exploded in pain as the man punched him. The chair rocked and crashed to the floor. The pain sung up his body as his head screamed in pain.

Kneeling in front of him, the killer laughed. “I love your tattoo, Director. I admired it as you and my Elizabeth were leaving the gym not far from your home. Her hands ran all over it
, and that made me very jealous. You see, she’s already been picked for Satan. He wants her and you stood in my way.”

Ethan said nothing.

“Did you know that the raven is very poetic indeed? It’s the bird of death. It’s ironic that you wear one on your chest when you’re next to die.”

Ethan wasn’t going to freak out yet. He spit blood fro
m his mouth to the ground. “The raven brings a message and not death,” he corrected him.

“Oh, and what is
it telling me, Director?”

“That
Elizabeth is going to find you, and when she does, she’s going to kick your ass all the way back to your master empty handed. The tattoo on my chest is nothing. I’m not the raven, she is!”

The man screamed in fury
as the knife made another slash across the tattoo. “I will win!” he bellowed in hate and frustration.

The burn in his chest overwhelmed him. Just as he was getting over that,
Ethan’s head was slammed into the ground. The room swam once more, as the smell of blood and the pain pulled him back under.

Ethan knew as the panic subsided, so would his life.
The clock was now ticking, and fate sat in the hands of his wife and brother.

“This isn’t over
, Director. I have plans for you, but first, enjoy your nap.”

Two hours later

Once they returned to the room, Callen had placed Elizabeth on the bed and promptly Rex had moved protectively beside her. He didn't know what to do for her, other than promise that they’d get him back. Callen would have done anything at that point to take away the pain that was drowning her. He made the vow and kissed away her tears, all while his own fears rocked his body.

How did he live without his big brother? He loved the man as his friend, partner
, and family. They shared everything from the woman they loved to the children they sired. He was half of his heart, and now he was gone.

Yet
, he couldn’t give up. Ethan was his role model and he’d be fighting for him if the roles were reversed.

Callen was struggling to keep it together. What he wanted was to lie beside Elizabeth and weep with her. Then and there
, he wanted to mourn for a man he loved as he hid from the inevitable.

He was now in charge of all of this
.

Her sobs had filled the room
and forced him back to the reality of the situation. Someone had to carry on and make the decisions needed to find Ethan.

Yet
, her sorrow was distracting.

Rarely was she so broken
, that she’d weep like this for two hours. It was scary to watch a normally strong person break in pieces before your eyes.