Authors: Kelley Armstrong

Tags: #thriller, #Horror, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Suspense

Otherworld 02 - Stolen (40 page)

BOOK: Otherworld 02 - Stolen

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"Behind door number one we have the most obvious choice. You fall from this tree. Only I'll make sure Clay doesn't kill you. And I won't drop you, I'll throw you. Hard enough to break every limb, but not hard enough to kill you. Then we'll gag you and leave you to die, slowly and painfully.

"Behind door number two-"

"No," he said, his voice nearly inaudible. "No. Don't-"

"Hey, I'm just getting warmed up. You know what I admire most about you, Ty? Your creativity. Your ingenuity. Like giving me the choice between killing Armen or being gang-raped. You've inspired me to new heights of creativity, so shut up and listen.

"Option two. Remember that video you saw of me fighting Lake? The one where I change my hand into a claw? Cool trick, huh? Well, here's my idea. I change my hand and slice open your guts. Not a lot, maybe pull out a bit of intestine, start a steady blood drip. You know what they say about gunshot wounds? That the gut shot is the absolute worst. Takes forever to die and hurts like the fires of Hell. Which, if you ask me, would be a good precursor to what you can expect from your eternity. I kind of like that one. Very appropriate. To hell with the game, I'm going for this one."

I pressed my hand against his stomach. He convulsed and a strong, acrid scent wafted up. I looked down to see a wet stain spreading down his pant leg.

"Shit, Ty. I was only kidding." I waved my hand in front of him.

"Stop it," he whispered. "Just stop-"

"Can't. You remember
Let's Make a Deal
, don't you? You're about my age, so you must have seen it as a kid. There's a door number three left. And behind this one we have… hmmm." I looked around, then caught a glimpse of something overhead. "There. See that bird flying to the east? Know what that is? A turkey vulture. Also known as a buzzard. A scavenger. That will be the last choice. Death by scavenger. I take you down from this tree and stake you out on the ground. Then I slice you up. Lots of little, nonlethal slices, just enough to draw blood. Before long, you'll get a firsthand view of every scavenger in these woods. Oh, and I'll need to cut out your tongue so you can't scream. A definite sadistic improvement over gagging, don't you think? You should be proud of me, Ty. I'm your star pupil. Oh, speaking of pupils, I won't blindfold you. That way you can see the vultures and stray dogs as they feed on you. Well, until the vultures take your eyes-"

"Stop!" His voice rose, nearly shrill. "I know what you're doing. You want me to beg for my life. To offer you more."

"What more? You've offered everything, Ty. And I said no."

His eyes rolled, rabid with fear and denial. "No. You won't kill me. I'm worth too much."

"You're worth nothing. Only your death is worth something to me."

"No! You won't do it, Elena. I know you won't. You want to scare me, but you'd never-"

"Never?"

"You don't have it in you."

"Option one, two, or three. Pick now."

"You're torturing me. That's all. You only want to see me squirm. You don't have it-"

I grabbed him by the throat and hauled him off his feet. Then I pressed my face against his.

"Don't tell me what I don't have in me."

I growled. Saw the terror in his eyes and drank it in. Then I let him go. Clay ripped out his throat before his body hit the ground.

CLEANUP

After killing Winsloe, Clay Changed, and we returned to our clothing. No time for lingering. There was still work to be done at the compound. Every bit of evidence had to be found and destroyed. Then we had to remove all traces of our presence. Eventually someone would find the compound and the bodies within. To decrease the likelihood of a large-scale police investigation, Paige had hacked into the computer system early this morning and transferred the property deed to a Colombian drug cartel. Don't ask me how she even knew the name of a South American dope lord. Some questions are better left unanswered. As for Winsloe, we'd disposed of his body in a way that ensured he'd never be found. How? Well, that's another one of those questions. The point was that no one would ever find Winsloe or link him to the compound, which would avoid the media blitz that would surround his death.

"Did Savannah look okay to you?" I asked as we finished dressing. "She hit that wall pretty hard."

"She seemed fine. Jeremy will look after her."

"Do you think Paige will be able to handle her?"

"If Paige could handle that sorcerer, she can handle a twelve-year-old kid. She'll be fine, darling. They both will."

"I hope so."

Clay pushed aside a branch for me. "Watching you with Savannah, I was thinking-"

"Don't."

"I didn't say anything."

"Good. Don't."

"I was just thinking-"

"No kids."

He laughed and put his arm around me. "That sounds definite."

"It is. Me as a mother?" I shuddered. "I can only imagine one thing worse. You as a father."

"Thanks a hell of a lot. I'd make a… fairly good father. And if not, there's Jeremy. He's a great parent. He'd compensate for my shortcomings."

"Great idea. We have the kids and dump the responsibility on him. He'd love that."

"He wouldn't mind."

I groaned. "No kids."

Clay walked a few more feet, then grinned. "Hey, you know what else? If we had children, you couldn't leave. You'd be stuck with me. Now there's a thought."

"You-that's-oh!"

I threw up my hands and stomped off. Clay's laugh echoed through the forest. He jogged up, swung me off the ground, and tickled me.

"I'm hiding my birth control pills," I said, gasping for breath.

"We'll discuss it later."

"Nev-"

He cut me off with a kiss. A few minutes later, there came a rustling in the bushes.

"They're kissing." A young voice. Savannah.

I twisted to see Jeremy yank Savannah back. Then he peered through the bushes.

"Oh, you're dressed," he said, and released Savannah.

I wriggled out of Clay's grasp. "Of course we're dressed. Since when have we ever stopped in the middle of a dangerous situation to have"-I glanced at Savannah-"a rest."

Jeremy rolled his eyes.

"Did you kill Winsloe?" Savannah asked.

"Kill-" I choked. "Um, no, we-uh-"

"He's been taken care of," Jeremy said. "Now I think we should get you back to Paige before-"

"There you are!" Paige said, bursting through the bushes, face glistening with sweat. "I told you to stay close."

"I did stay close," Savannah said. "You didn't say who I had to stay close to."

"I was out here trying to pick up Leah's trail," Jeremy explained to us. "There's no trace of her. Perhaps you two can do a better job."

"I'll go with Elena," Savannah said. "If we find Leah, I can use my binding spell again."

Paige and I both opened our mouths to protest, but Jeremy beat us to it.

"Why don't we go find Adam?" he said. "Perhaps we can help him."

Savannah's eyes sparked at the mention of Adam, but she only shrugged and allowed that she
supposed
that would be an acceptable alternative. When Jeremy headed toward the compound, Savannah trailed behind him.

Paige sighed. "I may have finally met a challenge I'm not ready for. Thank God I have my Coven sisters. They'll probably die of shock when I actually admit I need help."

"Do you want to come with us and look for Leah?" I asked. "Take a break?"

"No, you two go on. Be careful."

I grinned. "Now, what would be the fun in that?"

Paige laughed and jogged after Jeremy and Savannah.

***

When we left the compound at dawn there was no evidence to suggest anything out of the ordinary had happened there. Okay, a building filled with dead bodies isn't exactly commonplace, but there was no evidence of anything supernatural. Before leaving, Adam started a series of small fires, not enough to be seen by passing planes, but enough to fill the building with thick smoke, further damaging anything that remained.

Oh, and Leah? We never did find her. I spent two hours scouring the grounds outside the compound. If she'd left, I should have found a trail. Since I didn't, we had to assume she'd holed up somewhere in the compound, where she would have eventually been overcome by smoke. And if she did manage to escape? Well, let's just say none of us planned to visit her home state of Wisconsin anytime soon.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To my agent, Helen Heller, my miracle worker. To Sarah Manges at Penguin Putnam, for always going the extra mile. To Anne Collins at Random House Canada, for all her wonderful advice. To Antonia Hodgson at Little, Brown and Co, UK, for her early and ongoing support. To Bev Irwin for her professional advice on the medical segments. Finally, to my family, for usually letting me retreat undisturbed to my writing dungeon and for forgiving the snarling that erupts when they trespass.

***