Love Immortal (34 page)

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Authors: Linnea Hall

Tags: #urban fantasy, #contemporary fantasy, #twilight

BOOK: Love Immortal
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“She’s terrified.” He started.
“She’s…hungry?” He was having trouble sorting through all of the
emotions that were flooding his mind. “She’s hostile or maybe
defiant. Anxious, but she’s also hopeful. Pain, exhaustion,
resistance.” He stopped for a minute, frustrated. “I don’t know;
there’s just so much!”

“That’s understandable. Let’s try to focus on
one emotion at a time.” Kendryck tried to sort through what Collin
had said so that he could help Collin focus. “The hunger is easy.
They found a receipt from McDonald’s. They must not have given her
a chance to eat. That’s not really important right now.” He looked
at a notepad where he had been jotting down notes as Collin spoke.
“I guess we should probably focus on the pain first. Can you tell
whether it’s a physical pain, or an emotional one?”

Collin closed his eyes and tried to focus,
attempting to block out all of the memories other than the pain.
“It’s both, but…more physical I think.”

“Where? Can you tell where she’s feeling the
pain?”

“Ummm…here,” Collin pointed to the back of
his neck. “That pain is different than the rest. It’s like…it’s
more of a burning pain, like a cut or a scrape. Her arm, it stings
like a cut. Her back. That’s ummm…like it’s cramped maybe? Her
wrists.” He thought for a second. “And her ankles too. It’s like
something is wrapped around them.” Collin opened his eyes and
looked at Kendryck.

“Maybe they’ve her tied up?” Percy
supposed.

“That would make sense, if they’ve got her as
a hostage.” Gladys added.

“Well, they’re not exactly known for their
gentle treatment of their victims.”

Gladys glared at Kendryck as Percy answered
Collin’s worried look. “She’s not dead. That’s the important part.
If they thought she was one of us, she would be dead. They
decapitate infidels. They must want her for something else.”

“What else would they want her for?” Collin
asked.

“You.” Percy answered succinctly.

Collin frowned and tried to make a connection
with Jewell. “Where are you Honeysuckle? Please hold on, we’re
coming for you.”

Chapter 46

 

Jewell didn’t know how often her guard had
changed while she was sitting in the room. She had no way to guess
the time between changes, but she thought that it was probably
every hour or so. There had been four different guards which meant
it could be just after noon. Jewell heard the rhythmic knock on the
door indicating that someone new was coming to take over. She knew
there were at least three men based on the different sounds they
made as they moved.

“Tell the others that they can take a break,
go home and get some rest. It’s hard to say how long this is going
to last.” The voice was that of an older man, one that had reached
full maturity. It carried with it an air of influence as if he was
used to delegating authority or giving out orders. “Tell them not
to get any ideas. I’m in charge right now, and as far as I’m
concerned, unless we learn she’s one of them, she will leave here
alive.”

Gee, she thought, that made her feel a whole
lot better; and one of whom? Who did they think she was?

“Do we know if he knows yet?” The man sounded
younger than the first.

“Not yet. We were hoping he would show up on
his own. We certainly didn’t take any steps to avoid him. It may be
that he’s just waiting for an opportunity.”

“Thanks Gary. She’s not much trouble, but
then what’s she going to do?” The younger man laughed at himself.
“Take it easy.”

Jewell heard the door closing and then she
heard the familiar scraping of the outside lock.

Maybe because he seemed to want to make sure
she left her ordeal alive, Jewell felt a connection to her newest
guard. “I’m Jewell,” she started.

“Gary.” He responded. He was curt, but not
exactly rude.

“Why am I here?” She didn’t know how much
information she was going to get, but she felt like she deserved to
know why she had been kidnapped and was now being held hostage.

“Bait, for the infidel. We’re going to ransom
you for him.”

“Infidels?”

“A violator of the grail.”

“The grail?” She asked, confused. “What do
you mean the grail? Like the Holy Grail?”

“Yes, the Holy Grail; violated by those that
seek immortality. The infidels must be killed.”

“Wait, are you saying that I’m being used as
bait to lure someone who’s immortal because he drank from the Holy
Grail? Are you serious?” Surely this man was joking with her. The
Holy Grail was a myth, and immortals didn’t exist. “So who is this
immortal?” But even as the question escaped her lips, she knew.
They were looking for Collin. Suddenly everything fell into place.
His miraculous survival, Dr. Babineaux’s interest, Dr. Babineaux’s
research in longevity, Collin’s uncle not wanting Collin to get too
attached, his family constantly moving from place to place; but
certainly he wasn’t immortal, that was crazy. “So, you think
that…,” she didn’t say his name, just in case she was wrong, “that
this infidel drank from the Holy Grail and so is immortal? If he’s
immortal, how do you expect to kill him?” Her captor didn’t say
anything. She heard him pick up the magazine; the conversation was
over.

Great, Jewell thought, I’m being held captive
by a bunch of religious fanatics who believe in fairy tales. That
wasn’t a refreshing thought. She wasn’t a fan of extremists of
anything, and these people seemed to have taken religious
fanaticism to new heights.

Jewell drifted in and out of sleep. As far as
she knew, she had been awake for over twenty hours. Her thoughts
were getting muddled from her lack of sleep and persistent hunger
and she was having trouble remembering where she was and what was
happening. Once in a while, the guard on duty would feel the need
to assert his authority, generally through some form of physical
assault; a slap to the face or a kick if she tried to say
something. Before long, she stopped trying to talk to her
captors.

Eventually, nature’s call caught up with her.
At first, it wasn’t too bothersome, but as her bladder began to
expand, the pressure began to become unbearable. She was afraid to
ask to use the restroom, afraid of what the circumstances would be,
though she was afraid of what the circumstances would be if she
wasn’t taken to the toilet. Other than being uncomfortable, with
these men, she could be punished as well. Sitting in an enclosed
space with someone who had urinated on herself would become very
unpleasant, very quickly.

She decided to risk a slap or a kick. She
cleared her throat quietly and heard the sound of a paper being
moved. “I need to use the restroom,” she whispered.

“What?” The voice was gruff, irritated.
Whether from her speaking, or having to sit in the room with her,
she didn’t know.

“I need to use the restroom,” she repeated, a
little louder. This time, she heard the chair squeak and the man
rapped on the door, signaling whoever was outside that he needed
the door opened. After a few short seconds, she heard the rasp of
the key in the lock and the door opened.

“She says she has to go to the bathroom.” The
door closed again. Jewell’s head dropped to her chest in defeat.
She would hold it as long as she could. However, she heard the door
open again within a few minutes. Someone walked over to her. “You
had better not try anything.” It was the voice of the man that had
asserted his authority when she had been cut. She nodded. Then she
felt a piece of metal slide between her wrist and her chair, and
the E Z Cuff fell away. She sat submissively as the other cuffs
were removed.

The man took her hand and pulled her from the
chair. She stumbled as she tried to stand up, the man steadied her.
When she was stable, he led her from the room. She held her hand in
front of her, trying not to walk into a wall. After a few turns the
man put her hand on the top of the cold porcelain toilet. She
stood, waiting for the man to leave. When it was obvious he didn’t
intend to leave her alone, she untied her scrub pants, and pulled
them down, letting them fall to her ankles. She felt for the seat
of the toilet and sat down. When she finished, she pulled her pants
back up and was led back to the room. She was secured again to the
chair where she was left with a guard.

Every once in a while, she would hear Collin,
whispering to her to hold on; but when she opened her eyes, there
would be nothing to see, the blindfold was still firmly affixed to
her eyes and her arms and legs securely bound to the chair. Though
the duct tape gag had been removed, it didn’t help make anything
easier.

Sometimes, when her captors changed, the door
remained open long enough to hear sounds from outside. Some of the
sounds were hard to identify; if she had to put a name to the
sounds, she would have said it sounded like sword fights. She heard
snippets of conversations, but most of the topics were mundane, not
offering any information about her captors, or their quarry. She
wanted to tell them that Collin was gone, that he had left her and
didn’t care about her any more, but she knew that they would never
believe her. After all, why believe the truth, when they had so
many more interesting stories to believe.

At this point, she was certain of three
things. Her captors were hunting Collin, she was the bait, and they
were all crazy. Not a winning combination.

CHAPTER 47

 

Both police officers stood up as they watched
the man with the brace on his leg slip his key into the door of
Edgar Durand’s apartment. As the man slipped into the apartment the
officers followed behind, one of them gently pushing on the door to
keep it from closing. “Excuse me.” the second officer said as she
pulled the badge from under her shirt. “My name is Elizabeth
Thomason; I work with the St. Tammany Parrish Sheriff’s department.
This is my partner, Kory Doucet. Are you Edgar Durand?”

Edgar looked at the badges held out by the
two officers. “Is something wrong?” Edgar winced inwardly as he
said that. By asking if something was wrong, they would obviously
know that he knew something was wrong.

“May we come in Mr. Durand? We have a couple
of questions we want to ask you.”

Edgar swallowed and forced a smile. “Of
course. You’ll have to pardon the mess; I’m not much of a
housekeeper.” He walked in ahead of them clearing several papers
off a couch and moving them to the coffee table. “Can I get you
officers anything?”

“Yes, thank you. Do you have some sweet tea?
It’s so hot outside.” Elizabeth glanced at her partner.

“That sounds wonderful Mr. Durand. Thank
you.”

Edgar nodded curtly and grudgingly walked
into the kitchen to fix the two drinks. “If you have some lemon Mr.
Durand; that would be wonderful.” Elizabeth called into the kitchen
as she leaned forward to glance at the papers on the table looking
for any clues. Technically, she couldn’t sort through the paper,
but whatever was in plain sight was fair game. Most of the papers
seemed to be old bills; there were a couple of final notices. She
saw a to-do list with mundane tasks: grocery shopping call the
cable guy; get the oil changed on the car. Under the list was a
handwritten address in New Orleans. The street name was obscured,
but the number was clear. Elizabeth pulled out her cell phone and
snapped a picture, putting her phone away just as Edgar walked into
the room, carrying two tall glasses of iced tea, each with a lemon
wedge perched on the side, and the handle of a spoon protruding
from the top of the glass.

Edgar sat on a chair opposite the couch upon
which Sheriffs Elizabeth and Kory sat, perching on the edge of the
chair expectantly. Elizabeth and Kory accepted the glasses and each
took a sip before setting their glasses on the glass table top.

“That’s an interesting cross you’re wearing
Mr. Durand.” Elizabeth remarked when Edgar sat down.

Edgar pulled the simple black cross from his
shirt. “It’s just a cross, a symbol of my faith and love for
God.”

“It’s beautiful. What’s it made of? Onyx?”
Elizabeth admired the plain black cross on the silver chain knowing
exactly what it was. This was the symbol worn by all Obsidian
Knights, given to them upon entry into the order; a plain black
cross of obsidian on a silver chain.

“Ummm…I’m not really sure. It was a gift.” It
wasn’t a complete lie; the cross had been a gift. “I think it’s
obsidian.”

“Do you know Jewell McKean,” Kory started
abruptly.

“I’m sorry,” Edgar lied smoothly, “I’m not
familiar with the name.”

Kory fished a photograph out of his notebook
and handed it to Edgar. “She’s a nurse at University Hospital in
New Orleans. I believe you were a patient there.”

Edgar took the picture and stared at it
before handing it back. “She looks familiar, but I’m not sure I
know who she is.”

“We have reason to believe that you were
stalking her about six weeks ago.” Elizabeth interjected
coldly.

Edgar gave a brief, but forced laugh. “Yes,
now I remember. She was a nurse in the trauma unit. I was in an
accident a while back.” He gestured to his leg. “She was working in
the trauma center when I was taken in, and she was so pretty.
Honestly, I was hoping to catch her after work, I wanted to ask her
out.” He smiled, trying to look embarrassed. “I don’t understand.
That was several weeks ago

“She’s missing.” Elizabeth replied coldly.
“She was taken this morning. We wanted to know if you knew anything
about her disappearance.”

Edgar feigned shock. “My goodness. How
horrible. I wish I knew something officers, but I really haven’t
seen her since…well; it’s been several weeks now.”

“Would you be willing to come down to the
station and make a statement Mr. Durand?” Tyler asked.

“Well, if you think it would help, I’d be
happy to. If you can just give me a minute? I need to feed my cat
and call my mother.” He smiled apologetically. “She’s expecting me
for dinner.”

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