Dark Mysteries (29 page)

And
then there were men who just liked pain. They liked hearing people
scream. They liked watching horror in people's eyes. They liked
blood. And bones breaking. It made them hot. It made them, in a
horrifying way, happy.

There
were men who got off on it.

Men
like Jason.

His
gaze felt like hands on her body. And she was suddenly acutely aware
of her bare skin. There was a spreading feeling of unease in her
belly. A rolling, awful thing. She wished for the heater again.
Something to warm up her unbearably cold skin.

Because
she recognized that look. Every woman knew that look. Even women who
had never seen it before. They knew it when they saw it. The kind of
look that made their hairs stand on end. The kind of look that told
them they should run.

But
she couldn't run.

“So,
why are you here then?” she asked. Trying to keep him talking.
Keep him distracted. Give her time. Until Bobby came to bring her
food. Or heat. Or ice. Until Nick came.

Ironic,
that. Nick was going to have to be her savior.

“Oh,
I just thought... it was wrong for Nick to have all the fun,”
he shrugged, cocking his head to the side.

How
had she never seen the ugly in him before? In the city when he called
Nick on her. When he threw ice at her. When he tried to shove food
down her throat. How had she missed it?

“Aren't
you worried about what Nick would think if he found out?”

“Nick
is an idiot,” Jason scoffed. “All these years since you
left... all he could focus on was getting you back. All the trips he
took. All the meetings he missed. Who do you think picked up the
slack? Made the decisions?”

“You
did a good job,” Ellie said, trying to sound impressed. Trying
to appease him. Trying to delay what seemed to be inevitable.

“Damn
right I did. I expanded into the city. Increased profits by
threefold. He's just a face. I'm the business.” He paused,
shaking his head, refocusing. “But his little obsession has me
wondering,” he said, sneering again, “hat he got a taste
of that was so...” he stepped closer, leaning into her neck and
sniffing, “delicious.” His hand reached for her shoulder,
brushing her hair out of the way, his fingers playing with her bra
strap. “I think I have earned the right to get a taste for
myself.”

Twenty-Three

They
made it there in half the time they had the last time. To Xander, it
didn't feel fast enough. He stared out of the window, half
anticipating seeing her again, half cursing himself for missing it.

They
had been there. They were right there. Standing above her. Just hours
after she had ended up there. Why hadn't they searched? Checked every
corner? Why would they just blindly take the word of one of Nick's
lackies? Where had his instincts been when making those calls?

She
had been forced to endure over a month of god-knew what because he
had been too emotionally invested. Because he couldn't keep his
feelings out of the equation and handle things like he would have if
it had been any other case.

K
was in the backseat, calmer than he had been the last time. Which
Xander had learned was all the more alarming. Brian sat next to him,
looking oddly between the three of them, but keeping his questions to
himself. Xander wasn't even sure why he told him to come. He would
just be a hindrance. Another innocent he needed to protect. Another
person he could let down.

But
it was too late now. He was with them.

The
outside of Three Sixes looked different to him. More sinister.
Darker. Full of secret torments. They shared a nod before heading in.
Xander plowed right into the bar owner, slamming him to the ground
and kicking him until Gabe pulled him off.

He
could feel his pulse in his ears. Angry. Angrier than he had ever
been in his life. These people who allowed a monster to hurt someone
so perfect.

The
bar was almost full. People played at the games, watching for a
moment as the strangers tore into the place. Deciding if it was worth
it to get involved.

And
then all hell broke loose.

Xander
swung out, throwing his rage into every body that came his way. Every
soul who worked for such a piece of shit like Nicola Russo. He kept
eyes on the others: Gabe moving around with a sort of wiry grace,
effortless, smooth; K solid, methodical, practiced. Never, outside of
phony action movies, had so many skilled fighters assembled for a
common good.

“Xander,”
Gabe called out, his voice full of warning.

Xander
swung around, seeing a fist inches from his face. And then it was
gone. An arm reaching out and grabbing, throwing the man so hard he
slid across the floor.

And
there was Brian. His hair falling out of his ridiculous bun, a huge
split in his lip, but smiling.

Maybe
he had been underestimating him.

“Go,”
Brian said, holding his hands up like he couldn't understand why
Xander was still standing there. “We'll finish this,” he
added, gesturing out toward the bar, the few brave or loyal
stragglers reaching for things to throw. “Go,” Brian
urged again, taking off to throw himself into the midsection of
someone who was wielding a knife.

He
paused for a second, not wanting to abandon his friends.

But
there, one floor below them, was Ellie.

–

The
second bra strap had been pulled off her shoulder, the cups loosening
in the front. Jason turned his face in toward her neck, sighing once,
then digging his teeth into her skin.

So,
there were things worse than Nick. She closed her eyes, pretending
not to feel anything, pretending not to even be there.

“What
the fuck is going on here?” Nick's voice yelled, dark,
unfathomably livid. She hadn't even heard the door open.

Jason
tensed slightly, but she heard him chuckle, somewhere in his chest.
He wasn't afraid of Nick. And that was more alarming than anything
else. And then Nick was charging, knocking him to the floor and
standing over him.

“I
second that,” a voice said. Further away. Behind Nick. She
squinted her eyes, trying to make out a figure, but failing. He
sounded familiar. But she couldn't quite place it.

But
both Nick and Jason looked over, their eyes widened, fists tightened.
Whoever it was, was not supposed to be there. Whoever it was could
save her.

“Help,”
she tried to scream, finding her throat too sore to strangle out more
than a raspy whimper.

And
then the stranger was charging into the room, throwing himself at
Nick. There was the unmistakable sound of fists hitting flesh. Grunts
as the shots landed. Heavy breathing. Cursing. Ellie twisted her
hands in their shackles, grabbing the chain and pulling herself
upward. Away from Jason's body at her feet.

Then
he turned. Her mysterious savior. And she knew where the voice came
from. Xander.

But
it couldn't be Xander.

Xander
didn't even know anything had happened to her. Xander just thought
she ran away to protect him. And herself.

She
was hallucinating. Again. Her feet or her face or her wrists...
something was cut badly enough for an infection to take root, to
spread. To cause a raging fever. To make her see things that couldn't
possibly be there.

Ellie
closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the fever dream. Letting
it wash over her. It was better than real life.

She
smiled to herself. Because then there was K. Right on schedule.
Saving the day. Her two superheroes coming to the rescue.

“Xander,”
K yelled, watching as he grabbed the Jason guy by the neck and hauled
him onto his feet.

“Yo,
man,” Gabe's voice chimed in, making Ellie giggle. That was a
weird addition to hallucinate. “Hey...” he yelled again.
“Get Ellie, we got this.”

There
was an odd second of silence, of feet shuffling. Of someone hitting
the floor.

And
then there were hands on her face, cradling her jaw. Like she
remembered he did. Like she was something precious. That was a nice
memory. She melted into his hands, letting her hands fall, lowering
herself back down on her toes.

“I
like this dream,” she murmured.

“Open
your eyes,” Xander commanded, his voice soft but fierce.

“No,”
she whispered, turning her face to kiss dream Xander's hand, “if
I open my eyes, then you'll disappear,” she told him.

“Ellie,
sweetheart,” Xander's voice said, sounding urgent, worried,
“you're not dreaming. Open your eyes. I'm right here. I'm going
to take you home.”

“That
would be nice,” she smiled to herself. Home. What a strange
concept.

“Someone
give me something for these locks,” Xander growled, watching
Ellie with rising panic. She looked like a human punching bag. Her
face was bloodied, bruised, swollen. He reached down and slipped her
bra straps back onto her shoulders.

“Here,”
Gabe yelled, throwing Xander his key chain, “there's a lock
pick,” he explained, struggling slightly to hold onto a
thrashing Jason in his arms.

Xander
didn't need to turn to know K was losing his cool. To know Nick was
paying for all the times he put his hands on someone who couldn't
defend herself.

Xander's
fingers were clumsy. He fumbled with the first wrist three times
before it clicked. He slipped an arm underneath her armpit, trying to
avoid touching the skin above her ribs that were looking an ominous
shade of red. The other shackle came loose immediately and he lifted
her slowly, careful not to place his hands anywhere that looked hurt.
Which was pretty much everywhere.

She
sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her face under his
chin. “This is a really, really nice hallucination.”

K
straightened, sharing an anxious look with Xander.

“Lock
them in here,” Xander told them, moving out and toward the
staircase.

“Jesus,
look at her feet,” Brian gasped, coming up from his squatted
position next to someone he had been holding down.

“We
need to get her to a hospital,” Xander said, watching as Brian
jumped up, running to open the door for him.

“I
want to go home,” Ellie murmured.

“We
are, baby. We are.”

He
settled them in the backseat, cradling her to his chest, waiting for
the others to emerge. Brian pressed himself against the door next to
them, trying to give them as much room as possible.

Xander
looked down at Ellie, his hand gently stroking her hair, the spots on
her face that weren't damaged. It was worse than the images that had
kept him awake at night for the past month. It was worse than the
nightmares that woke him up when he finally passed out.

But
he got her. She was safe. And as long as she was willing to tolerate
him, he was going to make sure she didn't get so much as a splinter
ever again.

He
leaned down and kissed her hair, glancing at Brian who looked a
little green. “What's wrong with her feet?” he asked, not
able to see them from his angle.

“They're
all cut up. Like long, straight gashes. Like someone...”

“Yeah,”
Xander said, shaking his head, “I get the picture.”

Gabe
and K came running out a moment later, jumping into the car. Gabe
threw it into drive and barreled down the road. K turned in his seat,
looking at the figure of the passed out Ellie. “Is she
alright?”

“She'll
be fine,” Xander said. She had to be fine. “She was
hallucinating. And then she passed out. I think she has broken ribs.
Her wrists are a mess. Her feet are all cut up... I don't know. It's
hard to see past all of the bruises.”

“We
taking her back to the city?” Gabe asked, already knowing the
answer. They hadn't exactly neutralized the threat. Nick would get
out. And then he would go looking for her at all the local hospitals.
If he didn't need to be admitted to one himself. Who knew what kind
of damage K had done.

“It's
safer,” Xander agreed, looking down at Ellie. What was another
hour? She would be okay. And they could protect her better there.

She
struggled to consciousness momentarily as they crossed the bridge,
squinting up at him. “Xander?”

“Yeah,
baby,” he said, trying to smile at her. Trying to not let her
see the horror he was feeling. “It's me. We're on the way to
the hospital. Gonna get you all fixed up. You'll be as good as new in
a few days.”

Ellie
smiled up at him, a dazed, not fully comprehending smile, reaching up
to place a hand on the side of his face. “My superhero,”
she murmured, drifting back to sleep.

“She's
not wrong,” Gabe said from the front seat, watching in the rear
view. Anyone else would have given up. He'd known her for such a
short amount of time. And so much time had passed without a single
viable lead. Any sane person would have moved on, devoting a few
hours here and there to trying to find answers. But he had spent
every waking moment on the phone, the computer. He had chased down
one impossible idea after another, completely unwilling to accept
that she was just gone. That there was nothing he could do. That
would never be okay with him. He would never have given up.