Of Water and Madness (25 page)

Rhiannon winced against the horrible, pulsating pain, the sight of her own blood causing her stomach to roll pitifully as she shuddered. Vivica was cheerfully shattering ceramic figurines and toppling furniture as Dante threw Rhiannon painfully against the wall.

He pressed against her, his face mere inches from her own. His eyes, filled with madness and triumph, stared into hers.

“Imagine the boy’s face when he comes into this room,” he began, chuckling at the horror that flashed into her eyes. “Priceless.”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice shaky but her eyes hard on his as anger pulsed through her.

Dante chuckled, his lips curving as he leaned in to whisper in her ear, his voice low and seductively sinister.

“Because I can.”

It grated on him that he had no clue where she would have gone. He’d known the girl for his entire life, and had loved her all those years, and yet he couldn’t for the life of him come up with any ideas on where she could be.

Liam scoured his mind for any memory of her mentioning a favorite park, or a city she really enjoyed, anything. But Rhiannon rarely ever talked about herself and the realization that he didn’t know her nearly as well as he thought irritated and upset him.

She must have counted on that, knowing he would have no clue. The last thing she probably wanted was him showing up on her doorstep, brandishing flowers with a poetic declaration of love. But this was an emergency, damnit, and it was so unlike her to not prepare for the possibility that she may need to be contacted.

The others were looking to him for the answer, thinking he would be the key. But, even as he paced back and forth in the garden room before them, he knew he wasn’t any closer to knowing her whereabouts than they were.

Running both hands restlessly through his hair, he shot Blythe an irritated look, simply because she was there.

“What?” she asked, on edge and temperamental. “Don’t look at me that way.”

“Someone has to have some clue of where she could be!” Liam shouted, his temper consuming him. “This is pathetic.”

“Yeah, well if you don’t know, then don’t expect us to know. You knew her the best,” Blythe charged, glaring at him.

“Stop arguing, that isn’t helping,” Lucian scolded them both, anxiety sharpening his eyes. “Perhaps we should try and reach Capri and Rian in Maine. She might have gone there to visit them.”

“She wouldn’t want to intrude,” Liam argued, shaking his head. “Plus Capri would just worry over her and she hates that.”

Thea suddenly rose to her feet, an idea occurring to her. She excused herself and swept from the room, leaving the others behind to continue to brainstorm in frustrated silence.

When Thea returned moments later with Brogan at her side, everyone turned to look at them anxiously.

Brogan only had eyes for Liam and the loathing in them was apparent. “So is it true? You were under that woman’s control?” he asked, his dark, poetic eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Liam scented the challenge and returned the glare with equal hostility. “Yes. But I’m free of her now and I’m worried for Rhia’s safety.”

“How do I know you’re not making this whole thing up?” Brogan frowned, his voice cold and accusing.

“Why the hell would I lie about this?” Liam growled, his hands clenching at his sides. “I love her.”

Brogan sneered, shaking his head. “You destroyed her. You led her on and convinced her to open up to you and then you betrayed her. I watched her suffer over you and I could do nothing to help, except promise her that I wouldn’t let you try and weasel your way back into her life.”

“What, so you could slide cozily into my place? I know you’ve always wanted her.” Liam’s eyes narrowed to slits, jealousy and resentment a hot flash in his gut. “But regardless of what’s happened, she’s mine and I intend on getting her back, and I won’t let you stand in my way.”

“Rhiannon belongs to no one but herself,” Brogan asserted, angling his face so he could stare down at Liam in disgust. “Unlike you, I won’t betray her trust.”

“So you know where she is?” Liam started forward, his hands reaching out to grip the other man’s shirt angrily. “Tell me, damnit.”

Brogan shoved Liam away with surprising force, causing Liam to launch himself back at the Fury in retaliation. Fists were flying as they collided, both fueled by jealousy, bitterness, and rage.

Those around them jumped to their feet, eyes wide at the sudden outbreak of a fight. Thea started to move forward to break them up, but Sebastian held her back, fearing for her safety.

Instead, Jax and Blythe stepped in, grabbing both men and tearing them off each other.

“Stop fighting!” Blythe shouted, pinning Liam’s arms behind his back while he struggled to get free. She managed to hold on, kicking the back of one of his knees for good measure.

“Ouch! Jesus, fine, let go,” Liam grunted, falling to his knees as Blythe released him, panting.

“This is ridiculous!” Thea glared at both Brogan and Liam with wide eyes. “First the Dryads, and now you two? The fighting needs to stop!”

Jax released Brogan, who rubbed his arms bitterly and stared at Thea, his face flushing with shame. “I apologize, Thea.”

“Yeah. Sorry,” Liam said flatly as he looked up at Brogan, heat still in his eyes. “Look, I know you think I hurt Rhia on purpose, but I didn’t, okay? And now we think Dante might be going after her so we need to get her before he finds her.”

Brogan scowled as he looked questioningly at Thea. “Is this true?”

She nodded, feeling an intense headache pulsing in her right temple. “Did she tell you where she was going?”

For a moment Brogan said nothing, he only stared into Thea’s eyes, clearly pondering his response. His silence was answer enough for Liam.

“Damnit, answer her!” he shouted, getting to his feet, frustration painfully clear upon his face. “Don’t you get it? Rhia could be dead if we don’t go to her.”

Brogan turned to Liam, eyeing him thoughtfully before he spoke.

“She’s in Idaho, at a small bed and breakfast overlooking the barley fields,” he revealed, hoping to God he hadn’t just betrayed her trust for nothing.

“Give Liam and Blythe the address, and the two of them will go,” Thea decided, nodding to Blythe. “We can’t waste any more time.”

They transported into the middle of a group of dark trees amidst a cool Idahoan night. The cloudless sky above them glittered with stars in the way only country skies ever could.

Liam spotted the little town up the road, seeing only a single street lamp and very few lights on in the houses. But he had to trust that this was the right place, since it matched the location Brogan had given them…

“Geez, this place is quiet,” Blythe muttered, cautiously staring around her as if she expected something to burst out of the barley fields and attack them. “I can see why she’d want to come here, but God, even El Paso isn’t this quiet.”

“He said the place is called
Le Petit Chateau,
” Liam told her as they walked through the barley toward the town.

Blythe snorted out a laugh, shaking her head. “Sounds just like something she’d pick. Prissy and refined.”

“Shut up.” Liam punched her playfully in the shoulder, grinning as they reached the street. He spotted the sign declaring the inn a few houses down, and seeing it lifted his spirits. Almost…they were almost there.

Crickets could be heard amongst the night sounds, coupled with the occasional screech of an owl or the murmured voices coming from an open window across the street. Liam’s heart rate began to quicken as they got closer, his eagerness to get inside overwhelming.

When they reached the door of the quaint brick building, a straw mat at their feet cheerfully displayed the words
The Friendliest Place in Town!
scripted in black letters. He knocked on the door, which was almost immediately answered by an elderly woman with a kind smile.

“Good evening,” she greeted, stepping aside so they could step in. “Welcome to
Le Petit Chateau
!”

“Thank you.” Liam glanced around at the tidy parlor, equipped with a check-in desk with phone and computer, a couple of worn and comfortable looking loveseats grouped together around a mahogany coffee table, and a wicker bookcase filled with hundreds of ancient looking books. The wallpaper was patterned with French pastoral scenes in warm pinks and blues, and cheered him enormously for reasons he couldn’t really explain.

“Are you two in need of a room?” The elderly woman asked, clasping her hands together, clearly thinking them to be a couple.

Blythe would have laughed but she knew it might offend the woman. “No, our friend Rhiannon is staying here. There’s been an emergency and we need to speak with her.”

“Oh my.” The woman gasped, her hands jolting up to cover her mouth as the humor died out of her eyes. “Yes, she’s just down the hall. In the Tranquille room.”

“Thanks.” Liam led the way down the hall, reading the names on the doors as he passed. He glanced back over his shoulder, and saw that the elderly woman had taken a seat on one of the loveseats and resumed reading her book. Smiling to himself, he found the door that the woman had indicated was Rhiannon’s room, and he knocked politely.

Blythe came to a stop beside him, chewing her bottom lip nervously. There was some kind of bad juju in the air, she was certain of it. Something was off, either about that woman, or about this place. It didn’t feel right and the nerves were skittering up her spine and annoying the hell out of her. The place looked normal, after all. What could possibly be wrong?

When no one answered the knock, Liam called out her name. “Rhia? Rhia, it’s me. Please open up, I have to talk to you.”

Again, nothing. He frowned as he shot an annoyed glance at Blythe, who had crossed her arms tightly over her chest and was looking extremely agitated. “I should have known she’d ignore me,” he told her, his eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Blythe faltered, sweat beading on her forehead. “Something’s wrong, Liam. Someone’s been here, someone bad. I don’t know how I know, but I do.”

“You can’t be serious.” He tried to smile, thinking maybe she was just joking with him. But the terrified look in her eyes alarmed him enough to have him second guessing the situation. “Alright, stand back, I’m going to kick in the door.”

“Okay.” Blythe nodded, moving back to give him room. He sucked in a sharp breath and shoved his foot forward, shattering the little lock that had held the door closed. Down the hall, the elderly woman rose to her feet and gaped at them, startled.

Liam shoved open the door and stepped inside, and what he saw froze his heart to ice.

The four poster bed was in shambles, with pillows ripped to shreds and blankets torn and tossed onto the floor. Almost every piece of furniture had been upended and destroyed, with shards of wood scattered across the carpet. Clothes and pieces of porcelain and ceramic littered the floor amongst the wood and feathers from the pillows. A single table lamp lay on the floor, the bulb glowing brightly up at the ceiling, its lampshade smashed in upon itself.

And then he saw the blood.

Rushing forward, he pressed his hand to a smear of blood that streaked across a section of the cheerfully floral patterned wall, feeling sick to his stomach. The blood was still slightly wet, and stained his fingertips a rich and awful red.