WB (29 page)

My voice come out sounding cold and harder than I ever thought I could be but the thought of him hurting me was so disgusting I felt crazy with rage. I could see from the dismissive smile on his face that he didn't take my threat seriously. I might as well have promised him a trip to Saturn for all the notice he took.

He droned on again like I hadn't said anything. Misogyny, megalomania, narcissism; the hits just kept on coming with this guy. I tuned him out for the next few minutes. I didn't think I could stand to hear any more of my crucial (but minor) part in the glorious future he was planning. Seriously, it was like being trapped in a room with a dozen network marketers.

My options right now were pretty limited; escape wasn't possible and I had no allies to call on. Trying to reason with Hugo was a waste of time, the best I could manage would be to cooperate and hope that my mother wouldn't be harmed as long as I went along with his plans.

Although, after seeing him shoot Celia, his partner in crime as it were, I had serious doubts that any deal I struck with him would be kept. He definitely did not seem like someone who would feel bad about going back on his word.

I realized in that moment, that I should have run like Helene wanted me to. I could have tried to get help, maybe called Jerome's house or gotten in touch with Morgan's coven, anyone to try and free Taryn and Helene.

There was no way Hugo would let them go, what inducement did he have? He didn't WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 121

need my cooperation to get pregnant, just a warlock who was willing to rape me on Hugo's command. After meeting a few of Hugo's followers I think he would be hard pressed to find one who wouldn't rape a woman. What would Chuck Norris do, I wondered desperately?

I could hear distant shouting and the sounds of pursuit from outside and I was absurdly glad that Taryn was leading Hugo's guards on a merry chase. Maybe, she would get away. I didn't know anything about werewolves, but anyone who could survive a fifteen foot fall, land on their back and then run off was likely to have other physical skills not included in normal humans. Cannon Beach was about ten miles away, perhaps she could make it there, steal a car and get far, far away from here. That would be one less death on my conscience.

Hugo was instructing one of his guards and I watched with disbelief as they stepped over Celia's body as if she was a lump of dirt on the floor. No one spared her a glance as they hurried to do Hugo's bidding and I felt a brief flare of rage that burned itself out as I was pushed down to the couch.

Hugo left the room and I was alone with Celia and one guard, this could be my only chance to try to get away but before I had a chance to spring up, he bent over me and grabbed my hands in his much stronger ones.

With a snarl I tried to pull away, but with a cruel smile he grabbed my head with one hand locking it in place and looked me in the eye, “Hello darlin', m'name's Charlie, but you can call me God, cause that's what I am to you. You eat, sleep or fuck when I say so, got it? Now, you can be sweet to me and stop struggling or we can do this the hard way. Just so you know, I like it the hard way best.”

His breath was fetid with an underlying scent of rotting flesh and I barely kept myself from gagging by breathing slowly through my mouth. He had a long crooked nose, small bloodshot blue eyes and a coarse growth of bristly brown hair on his jaw and the top of his head.

His teeth were small, jagged and brown stained with bits of food in between them that looked like he had recently eaten something furry and was in dire need of dental floss. His age could be anywhere from thirty to fifty, it was hard to tell with all the dirt and greasy hair.

“So what’s it gonna be? The easy way?”

His fingers tightened on my jaw and my eyes burned with unshed tears as I gave him a slow nod and swallowed back a lump of fear.

“Good choice, sweetie. Now, hold still, while I secure your hands.”

He unclipped a pair of handcuffs from his belt and with a swift movement brought my right hand up and slipped one side of the manacle over first one wrist and then the other.

As the handcuffs locked in place I felt a strange lassitude sweep over me. My eyelids seemed weighted and I felt my body listing to the side as he slid the other side of the cuff onto my left wrist.

My vision blurred until everything was tinged with gray fog. My tongue seemed to have swollen to almost twice its size. For one panic stricken moment I thought I might be having a seizure, but my body was still and my head felt heavy but not painful. My thoughts were muddied and slow, the minute I thought of something it seemed to flit from my head. There was something I needed to do, someone who needed my help but I couldn’t hold on to what I was thinking about before it faded away.

I scrunched my eyes tight, trying to concentrate, but it was no use, I felt woolly and dull.

Waves of sleepiness washed over me and the soft cushions of the couch looked like the plushest bed in the world. I wanted to stretch out and take a nap. My desire to sleep was so WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 122

overwhelming it transcended hunger, fear and rage and I unconsciously started to lean over to rest my head on the padded arm of the sofa.

With a rough shove and a shout of satisfied laughter, Charlie pushed me into a corner of the couch. I had forgotten he was still in the room with me and his touch made my skin crawl. I felt my head loll forward and with an extreme effort was able to keep the rest of my body from slumping over. I heard him walk out of the room and then the quiet sounds of him walking upstairs.

I blinked rapidly, trying to force my eyes open. I pinched the skin on the fleshy part of my palm hard enough to break the skin with my sharp nails and the pain broke through my mental fog and gave me a few seconds of clarity.

I took a closer look at the cuffs and saw that they were covered with small marks. At first glance, they looked like regular cuffs, perhaps a little more scratched up than usual but otherwise ordinary. But as I stared harder the marks on the cuffs seemed to be in a pattern that repeated.

The scratches looked like symbols and words mixed together. A pictograph eye followed a double wiggly line after the word entspannen followed by more symbols. They were charmed and I was helpless while wearing them.

“Anna ….”

My head swung wide to focus on Celia. Her face was a rectus of pain and her eyes burned into mine as she stared at me, willing me to do something. Mostly I had been trying to avoid looking at her.

“Come here,” she whispered, starting a spastic gurgling in her chest that ended in a wet cough leaving her gasping for breath. Bloody spittle gurgled from her pale, bluish lips and a strange whistling sound came with her every pained breath.

The shot must have hit a lung. It was a toss up what would kill her first; blood loss or drowning, as her lung filled with blood. I tried not to care, but it was hard.

I wet my lips slowly; my tongue caught on the dry skin.

“I can't. He put cuffs on me. There's a spell on them, I'm tired.”

She grimaced and uncurled her hand from her side and beckoned to me, “You can. You have to try harder. He'll be back soon.”

I closed my eyes a moment and with a deep breath I concentrated on lifting my hands from my lap and bracing them on the arm of the couch. My wrists shook as I shakily pushed up and away from the back of the sofa.

I let my breath out in a whoosh of triumph and then slowly slid my butt forward, coming to rest on the edge of the seat before taking a break. This was so hard. Like moving through cold molasses after a sleepless night. I had to fight to keep my eyes from sliding shut as I inched forward. I bit down on my tongue and the sharp pain brought a tear to my eye and helped me stay alert a moment longer.

Within minutes, I was ready to try standing up. Actually, I was thinking about dragging myself all the way out to the roadside whenever I succeeded in escaping the couch. Maybe a passing motorist would pick me up before Hugo and his men figured out that I was missing. If I could make it as far as Long Beach of Lincoln City I might be able to escape. This seemed like a pretty lame plan, but, at the moment, I didn't have anything better.

With a shaky hand I levered myself up from the couch but I had barely begun to stand when my knees gave way and I fell in a boneless mass to the floor. My head missed the coffee table by inches and my knees and right shoulder took the brunt of the fall clipping the table on WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 123

the way down. My shoulder throbbed in pain and my knees had that numb ache that precedes a stinging pain.

I kept my moans of discomfort to myself, the last thing I needed was to draw the attention of the guards. My ability to defend myself was on par with a gnat now and my only weapon was that I'd been left unguarded. But who knew how long that would last, one of the guards could walk in at any moment.

I was able to push up on my elbow and with an unladylike grunt I pulled myself around the edge of the couch. The Berber carpet was soft underfoot, but dragging myself over it on bare arms I felt every scratchy ridge. The rough fibers seemed to want to scrape away the tender flesh on the undersides of my arms. I ignored the burn and kept moving, arm over arm towards Celia.

Several minutes passed this way as I slowly made my way to her side. Every time I heard voices or footsteps, I froze in place and waited. My heart thumped wildly in my chest and I wondered if this was when one of the guards would walk in and find me, on the floor, worming my way across the room. I could imagine what would happen next and I could feel my resolve firming. I had to get away, this could be my only chance.

But, no one came and soon I was alongside Celia and I felt her fingers flutter nervously against the top of my head as I collapsed next to her. My breath came out in harsh gasps and my face glistened with sweat.

I tilted my head back to look Celia in the eyes. Her face was gray and her lips a pinched, waxy blue.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered. I had to lean close to hear her.

“I wanted you to have a choice … not have to be a slave to the coven ….” a painful gurgling interrupted her. I waited while she quietly cried and gasped in pain before she spoke again. Her body convulsed in a limpid way as she caught her breath and met my eyes with her watery ones.

“I made a mistake, Anna. I can't take it back.”

My eyes watered to hear her say this. I didn't want to hear any more of her confessions.

It hurt to listen to her, the lump in my throat was nothing to the pain in my heart. It was too late now and I didn't think that any explanation could excuse what she'd done to me.

But more important than any of that, I didn't want to sit here and watch her die. I didn't need a medical degree to know that she was dying. She had lost too much blood and the time for her to get to a hospital had come and gone several minutes ago. No doctor in the world could save her now.

“I don't want your forgiveness. I know I don't deserve it.” More gurgling and gasping and then I felt her fingers reaching for mine, “Give me your hands.”

Shakily I put my manacled hands in hers. She closed her eyes tight. The muscles of her face tightened and she whispered, 'klaar pas.'

The lock clicked open with a sighing sound and like stepping into icy water, I gasped as I came fully awake and alert again. The colors of the room sharpened and Celia's pained visage was more three dimensional than before.

The tingling in my hands was rug burn and my mind was awash with plans and thoughts about the terrible situation I found myself in. I breathed in deep trying to calm myself, all my anxiety and worries had been dampened with the spell and now that it was gone, I was awash with the full spectrum of feelings.

Celia gave me a small smile and said, “My pocket … keys … good luck, darling.”

WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 124

I hunched over her and slipped my hand into her jacket pocket and slid the keys out. I looked them over, the large silver one must be to the car, the smaller key, the trunk.

“I don't know where to go,” I said.

Celia gave a mirthless laugh, “Somewhere new, big, lots of people. You must have picked up a few tips from me. We spent so long hiding.”

My lips tightened and I gave her a tight nod, “I understand. Goodbye Celia.”

Before I even realized what I was doing I leaned over and kissed her cheek. Her skin was cool to the touch and I heard her give a soft sigh as my lips lingered a moment. When I stood up, her eyes were shut and a small smile creased her face making it look younger and softer than I could ever remember seeing it.

I hurried to the hallway, took a quick look around and stepped out, wincing as I stepped in something wet and slippery. There was no time for squeamishness, so I didn't stop to investigate. A quick look through the front door's window revealed several vehicles and one guard. The guard was leaning against a long sedan smoking, blocking my way to the other two cars.

I slumped back against the door. What did I do now? I couldn't make it on foot. I didn't even have shoes. A second glance outside and I watched as the guard started on a second cigarette, blowing smoke rings in the cold, misty air, looking bored and annoyed.

Okay, one guard against one witch. Granted, I wasn't real good at this witchcraft stuff, but I was damned if I was going to give up now. With a mental shake of my head I stood up, opened the door and stepped away from the house. Here goes it, I had the one shot at this, so I had to make it a good one.

The guard took one look at me and reached for the radio on his shoulder, but with a wince of pain I reached for the river of power and directed the energy at him with my hand held up and my index finger pointing at his body. For a moment nothing happened.