Angel's Guardian: A Contemporary Vampire Romance (14 page)

BOOK: Angel's Guardian: A Contemporary Vampire Romance
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CHAPTER
27

 

Jonathan slept like the dead. The punishment his body had endured had depleted his physical strength. The lingering pain should have kept him from sleep in torture and misery all night. It was a blessing of which he was unaware, but the dinner brought to him had been drugged to knock him out for hours, allowing him a desperately needed rest.

It was almost noon when a kick to the ribs awakened him. Disoriented and groggy, he opened his eyes to a new day of torture.

A half-hour later, he was again naked, stretched out on a long, folding table. His arms were pulled tightly out, one wrist wrapped in rope which was pulled taut under the table to wrap around his other wrist.  His legs were spread out and his ankles tied to the corner legs of the table.

At the foot of the table, Felix played with a silver lighter, clicking it on and off.

“Today, we have something different for you,” said Pretto as he tapped a cigarette out of a box of Newports, brought it to his lips, and waited for Felix to light it. He took a deep drag and tilted his head to blow out three perfectly formed smoke rings. “A nasty habit, most will say, but any habit is nasty if uncontrolled, Mr. Travers. Don’t you agree?”

Jonathan knew it was a hypothetical question. He concentrated on taking his own deep, controlled breaths and keeping calm. He closed his eyes and pictured Max, his thoughts reaching out to the vampire.
Max, it’s about to start again. Fire, they will use fire. Oh, God, I’m terrified of burning
.

Max had dozed off for an hour or two of rest, but his eyes snapped wide open as Jonathan’s cry came through loud and clear. He sat up on the edge of the bed, his eyes vacant and fixed somewhere in space as he connected with his friend.
I’m here. I won’t let go. We can do this, together. I will connect with you deeply and try to help you as much as I can
.

“Mr. Travers, let’s see if we can work faster today. Just like before, the moment I have what I want, you will be taken to your quarters and allowed to eat and rest. As long as I don’t get what I want, the punishment will continue and increase in intensity. Do you understand?”

Jonathan nodded, his pupils dilated, his heart beating too fast.

“Where is Angelica Ferrars?”

“I don’t know. I deal with Denisov. He always comes to me. I’ve never seen her.”

The burning took a few seconds to register, the hot pain a few seconds longer to reach peak intensity. Felix’s iron hold clamped around the ankle so that his victim was unable to escape the searing flame even by a centimeter. When the smell of searing flesh reached his nostrils, Jonathan’s eyes rolled up into his head and his body began to shake uncontrollably. Tears rolled down the corners of his eyes.

“Wrong answer, Mr. Travers. I did not ask if you’d seen her. I asked about her location.  Is she with Denisov and, if so, where? Or does he have her stashed somewhere else? A safe house, perhaps?”

Max kept himself connected to Jonathan’s mind. He heard every word and quickly gave his friend a response.
He knows we are not stupid, Jonathan. Tell him that I have many possible places. Give him a list that will take him time to check out. He’ll have to keep you alive until he knows for sure

Jonathan, through the filter of his agony, tried to sound convincing. He knew his life depended on it, but he was having trouble breathing.

“Denisov... is a very... rich... and discreet... man.... He has several people... who do for him... the same things... I do. He would never... place... the girl... at risk by telling anyone...where...she is, but... I know... of several... possible locations. Places... he owns... or leases... secretly... and we manage.”

Pretto considered his captive’s words. They made sense. He himself only had two people he trusted, and even they were not privy to all his affairs. He also had dozens of safe havens in case of need, and a few his own men did not know about.

Discretion and care in whom to trust were key to survival. If Denisov was a smart man, and he had to be if he was rich and powerful, he would keep his eggs in different baskets.

“Felix, get some paper and pen. Mr. Travers here has a list to give us. I want every apartment, house, building, warehouse, or property that Denisov owns or leases. Can you do that, Mr. Travers?”

“Yes, ...I think... I can.”

“You think?” Pretto nodded to Felix who flicked his lighter on.

“Yesss... Yesss... I can,” Jonathan cried, fear and pain etched on his handsome face. In his mind, Max kept him company.

You did well. You did well. Now, give him locations of my properties in New York only.  They will show up in public records, which is the first place they’ll check. That will take a few hours to research, and at least a day to physically clear
.

What if they decide to kill me once they have their list
? Jonathan asked.

Pretto is a devious and cunning creature. He will not dispose of his only asset until he’s confident he has what he needs. Even then, he knows you’re valuable to me and may be used as leverage. Relax, we’ve bought us another day
. Max was doing his best to reassure his friend.

That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one having the bottom of his feet roasted. I tell you, that Felix guy is salivating at the thought of my dick well done
.

 

******

 

   “These are transactions that Travers and his office carried out in the last month,” explained a glowing Claus to his boss. He knew he had succeeded beyond expectation.  “An expensive but well worth it hack into their data systems. This one here, especially, is very interesting. The purchase of a home in a small town in Northern California. It was expedited and paid for, not with investment funds but with personal funds.”

“A hidey hole for our mouse, maybe?”

“At the same time, a personal account was opened and funded also from the personal account of Denisov. Two hundred thousand dollars transferred to the newly opened account of one Lina Pavel Denisov. Not a hidey hole. A complete new identity. We would have never found her.”

“You have done excellently, Claus, and without any of the nasty stuff and its risks. It is a wonder what this technology can do.”

“Our guest very conveniently failed to mention that location,” said a sullen Felix.

“Yes, my friend. But do not fret. He may yet tell us a great deal about it, being that he did all the transactions. We will wake Mr. Travers this evening and spend some quality time with him. Meanwhile, Claus, call our west coast people and dispatch a team to this quaint, little  town. I want my property and her brats in custody now!”

 

CHAPTER
28

 

Her neighbors stood at the door, apologetic looks on their faces. They were the perfect image of the quintessential senior citizens, brittle and fragile.

“We are really embarrassed to have to ask you this. You just barely moved in, and already we come to beg a favor.” The old woman was sweet and  anxious. Her hair was totally white, cut short, curled in that old-fashioned way that old ladies seem to favor. Her small hands gestured in front of her like fluttery butterflies.

Behind her, the husband hovered, obviously also in distress. He was short, pudgy, his bold pate and pale blue eyes giving him the look of a cherub. He felt the need to intercede.

“Our granddaughter just went into early labor; she was not due for three weeks. The Martins, our neighbors on the other side, agreed to keep Charlie for us when the time came, but they’re out of town and won’t return for two more days.”

Angel smiled kindly. “It will be no problem. Charlie seems to have taken to Nina very well, and we do have a large, empty dog house.  Besides, neighbors should help each other.” She was actually happy for the chance to interact and to make friends, to live the typical suburban life.

“Thank you,” answered the old woman, obviously pleased. “If you ever need us to babysit, we’ll be more than happy to do so. My Marty loves children.”

“We’ll just pop over the house and pick up Charlie’s food and things. As soon as the baby is born and everything is settled, we’ll come pick him up. It will be no more than two or three days,” said Marty.  He’s a good guard dog.”

The couple brought back all the dog’s things, and hurriedly left for the hospital. Angel watched as Nina played with the dog, totally enraptured. There was no way around it. They would have to get a dog after this. Her daughter would insist, Angel was sure.

The young mother went to the playpen and picked up little Marco. She took the baby where the girl sat on the couch with the Golden Retriever at her side, his head on her lap as she petted him.

“Let’s see how well he does with the baby. I want to feel comfortable that little Marco is safe around him.” Without pause, the beautiful dog lifted his head and began sniffing the baby. Little Marco wiggled and reached out to grab one of the dog’s ears. Angel tensed, ready to pull the baby away, but Charlie was well-natured and eager to interact with the baby. When Angel was satisfied that the dog and the baby had accepted each other, she took little Marco back to his pen, and got busy in the kitchen, but her thoughts returned to her vampire.

She missed him so much. She wondered how he was faring all alone. Would he keep shaving and grooming his hair? Would he watch TV in the couch, or would he revert to his old, hermit ways and keep to his bedroom? Was he thinking about her, or was he glad to be rid of her and not giving her a second thought?

She went to the drawer in the kitchen counter where she kept the cell phone he gave her before she left. It was an unregistered prepaid phone no one could trace back to her. It was for special emergencies. It had one number stored: Max’s private number. Angel fingered the small phone, her hands itching to dial the number and hear his voice.

It took all her strength not to dial. She had pride. It was the man who should chase the woman. She needed him to call, to show that he needed her, that he could not be without her. She dropped the phone back in the drawer and snapped the drawer shut. She wiped the tears that trailed down her face, and began planning lunch.

 

******

 

He strained at the ropes dangling him from the ceiling. He felt groggy, finding it hard to surface from the drug-induced sleep. The sharp, stinging bite of a whip to his back sent shards of heated pain through his system and jolted him back to reality. He shook his head and sent his body on a spin that added dizziness and nausea to the onslaught of pain waves reverberating through his body.

“Mr. Travers. Mr. Travers,” a loud voice insisted. Hard fingers pressed into the fleshy part of his thigh. “It is time to wake up and play our game again.”

Jonathan lifted his head a few inches with effort and looked down at an immaculately dressed Pretto wearing a pinstripe charcoal suit with black silver tie on a black shirt. “You lied to me, Mr. Travers. You broke our deal.”

Oh, Jesus. Max, Max, I’m in trouble!

What’s wrong?
came the answer instantly.

They have me hanging again. Pretto is here. He says I lied.

A whip lashed with incredible force and wrapped itself around Jonathan’s torso, the tip striking his right nipple, breaking skin. Jonathan screamed and then took long gulps of air as the burning pain engulfed him. A dozen times the cruel lashings came, as he twisted and screamed in agony and then sobbed like a baby.

“Now, Mr. Travers, you’re out of time. One question, and a count of five for your answer. If at the count of five, you have not started to answer, Felix will start again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes, I do,” squealed the man whose body was now a patchwork of purple bruises, crusty scabs, and now, raw, open angry welts.

“Well, then. Let’s start. A few weeks ago, your firm bought a property in northern California and paid for it with funds from Denisov’s personal accounts. In addition, two hundred thousand dollars were deposited into an account under the name of Lina Pavel Denisov. Who is this woman?”

“I don’t know. Maxim is private about his women.”

Pretto gave a slight signal and the whip cut through the air with a sharp snap. Jonathan screamed and shook for long minutes, his screams interrupted only by the short, staccato bursts of the whip as it flew over and over.
Maaax! I won’t make it. I can’t. I’m on fire. I’m not strong enough. And they know about the house and the Lina account
. In his mind, Max went silent, probably in terror for Angel and the kids.
Oh, God, I’m alone. I will die here
.

“Wrong answer, Mr. Travers. We now know more about you. You’re not the hands-off, play-it-legal kind of lawyer. No, you deal in secrets, power plays, brokering private transactions, expensive discreet solutions. You know more about Denisov than anyone else alive. Who is Lina Denisov?”

“His sister,... a new arrival... from eastern Europe,” he spit out through teeth clenched tight against the fiery pain covering his body. Even his eyes burned as his salty sweat ran into them.

“Another lie, Mr. Travers. Claus here did his work. While her passport does show her having entered recently, there is no trace of her entry anywhere. She did not fly in, nor did she arrive on any ship.”

Once again, the whip cut the air, wrapping itself around the lower body, the tip flicking against the penis, leaving a red, bloody welt across it. A high-pitch sound, like one made by a pig being dragged to the knife, came from Jonathan, and he struggled to pull his knees up to protect his vulnerable manhood, but his strength failed him, and the only thing he succeeded in doing was the further strangling of his hands which he could no longer feel.

Jonathan writhed in agony, his body going into uncontrollable spasms much like an epileptic seizure. Claus pulled over a stool next to the hanging prisoner, and with a cold bottle of water, poured some into the man’s mouth and then allowed the rest to drip over the man’s tortured body. He stepped down and took the stool away.

“Mr. Travers, are Lina Denisov and Angelica Ferrars the same woman?”

Jonathan was beaten. “Yesss,” he spit out between sobs.”

“Is she at the California house already?”

“Yesss.”

“Good. The men I have on the way will not be making a wasted trip. Now, Mr. Travers, you should not feel bad. You only confirmed what we already knew.”

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