CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Sam started screaming as
soon as the man took his hand off of her mouth, praying someone
would hear her before he pulled her inside the closed museum. “Help
me! Someone, I—”
“There’s no one here.
I wouldn’t risk it. You know that. You’re a smart girl,” Ezra said.
“Don’t waste your energy. You’re going to need it for better
things. Things I think you’ll like if you’ll give them a
chance.”
Sam had recognized
his smell even before he spoke. Ezra. He always smelled like a mix
of incense and fresh coffee and books. She’d once thought it was a
nice scent—sexy intellectual with a dash of hippie thrown into the
mix. Now it made her stomach heave and pitch as he pulled her down
a hallway lit with fluorescent lights.
She could hear them
buzzing, like some ominous swarm coming to feed.
“Let me go,” Sam
said, struggling to get free of the arms wrapped around her chest,
pinning her own arms to her side. “You don’t want to hurt me. I
know you—”
“Of course I don’t.”
He had the balls to sound offended even as he pushed her face-first
into a wall and wrenched her arms behind her. Sam smelled vanilla a
split second before another set of hands began winding coarse rope
around her wrists.
“Here, hold her
still.” It was Sunshine. Shit. She
should have known better than to trust her ex-boyfriend’s new
girlfriend. Or her ex-boyfriend, for that matter. There were
reasons he was her ex, and being a lying bastard was a big
one.
“I thought you were
hurt, on your way to the hospital?” Sam asked, wincing as Sunny
pulled the rope tighter and tighter. This girl meant business, but
then, Sam should have suspected something was off when she’d been
so eager to help Sam with her new “gift.”
Sunny hadn’t
questioned the idea that altered states of consciousness could
enhance psychic ability for a second, and had been positively giddy
when she heard that the heat between Sam and Jace seemed to be
responsible for Sam’s visions. Sam had chalked up her discomfort
with Ezra’s new squeeze to awkwardness of the you’re-the-new-woman-in-my-ex-man’s-life-and-I’m-talking-about-sex-with-you
variety, but now she knew better. Her gut had been trying to send
out a warning, one she’d been stupid to ignore.
“He is hurt,” Sunny
said. “He’s probably going to need stitches.”
“It’s fine. The
bleeding has almost stopped.”
“You’re just lucky he
doesn’t know what he’s doing with a knife.”
Who were they talking
about? The demon-monster she and Jace had seen in the hall? They
knew the man who was working with the
demons? Sam cursed inwardly, but knew better than to ask any
questions. She’d learn more by keeping her mouth shut and her ears
open. Years of being the blind girl no one noticed had taught her
how much you could learn when you didn’t attract too much
attention.
“He knew what he was
doing,” Ezra argued. “He just didn’t want to hurt me, not really.
He’s a good guy. He was just afraid, and doubting that the people
he loved would be granted immortality, as promised. It’s
understandable. He hasn’t spent the years in study that we have.”
Ezra gave Sam an awkward pat on the shoulder before urging her to
turn and keep walking down the seemingly endless hall. They turned
right once and then left almost immediately thereafter, but most of
their movement was in a straight line. Sam tried to count the steps
they took, so she would know where to run when the time
came.
“He would have killed
you if he hadn’t heard his sister coming,” Sunny said, her
frustration with Ezra clear. “Don’t kid yourself. You need to be
prepared.”
They couldn’t be
talking about Stephen. Stephen didn’t even know Ezra, at least not
well. They’d been introduced only once. And Stephen would never,
could never—
“He’s dangerous,”
Sunny continued, the genuine fear in her voice making Sam’s
thoughts race. There was no way her brother could be that monster.
It wasn’t physically possible. But then … most people would say it
wasn’t physically possible for her to have prophetic dreams, or
visions, or for her damaged eyes to change colors and suddenly be
able to see…. “We’ve got to hurry before he realizes we’ve got
her—”
“He’s not dangerous.
He’s just protective, but he’ll relax when he realizes we’d never
hurt Sam.” Ezra petted Sam on the shoulder again, while she did her
best not to shudder with revulsion.
“You threatened to
hurt—”
“We’re not talking
about her anymore,” Ezra said, his
voice sharp. Sam could tell he didn’t mean her, but couldn’t guess
who he was talking about. She hadn’t really known many of the other
women in Ezra’s life.
“I don’t want to talk
about her. I’m just reminding you of the facts. You threatened to
hurt one of them, so why wouldn’t he think you’d—”
“But Sam is
different. We’ve had a relationship.” Ezra sniffed.
“I’ve always planned
for her to be among the saved and kept the demons away from her
until there was no other choice.”
“After one of them lured her into the ruins and
nearly got her killed and another made her fall down the stairs,”
Sunny said. Sam bit her lip, barely repressing a sound of triumph.
She’d been right. It was a hollow victory now, but it was good to
finally know she wasn’t crazy.
“They were simply
overeager. I called them off. I showed them who was in
control.”
“Not soon enough.”
Sunshine’s tone left no doubt she wasn’t thrilled with Ezra’s
“control” of the demons. “Sam could have been killed, and then what
would we have—”
“We would have been
lost, considering you let her get away while I was trying to
protect Sam.” Ezra cleared his throat awkwardly, seeming to
remember Sam was actually capable of hearing everything he was
saying. “You know I’d never let anything hurt you, don’t you,
Samantha?”
Give me a break. Exactly how stupid does he think I
am? Sam thought, but did her best to be a little more
cordial when she spoke. Cordiality seemed like a good idea in a
situation like this. “That’s what I always thought, but the whole
tying-me-up thing is a little misleading. If you’re not going to
hurt me, then why are you—”
“It’s a precaution.
Just in case you turn out to be like your brother,” Ezra said, his
voice as polite as her own. “If you undergo the same
transformation, you could be dangerous to us.”
God, no. It just couldn’t be possible, but Ezra had
all but confirmed that her brother was that … thing. And he thought
she might turn into a thing like that, too.
“I never knew Stephen
… that he could change—”
“That he could change
into a demon?” Sunny chuckled softly. “He can’t. What he has is
more like an infection, one that gets more virulent when he’s in
close proximity to the demons who possessed him in the first place.
Just like your visions became stronger, his condition became more
severe when we used Pandora’s box to summon the demons fully into
the earthly plane. You’re reacting because your parents didn’t do
the ritual correctly.” Sunny’s voice held that
pleased-to-be-sharing-my-knowledge-with-the-less-educated tone that
it’d had when she was explaining the history of mystics’ using
sexual energy to facilitate their quest for enlightenment to Sam on
the phone earlier.
Great. It looked like they were going to keep this
nice and friendly. Except for the rope, of course. Maybe they’d all
sit down and have some tea before Ezra and Sunshine did whatever
horrible thing they were going to do to her. And it would be horrible. If they were working with the
demons, summoning them onto the earthly
plane just as her parents had done, then there was no way it could
be anything else.
After all, the people
who were supposed to love her more than anything else in the world
had agreed to let their children be sacrificed to the demons. She
wasn’t stupid enough to believe a man she used to sleep with and
his new gal pal cared more for her safety than the two people who
had given her life. She had to get away from them, had to find help
before it was too late.
Thank God Ginger
hadn’t been sucked into all this. She must have arrived after Sam,
seen the museum was closed, and left. She was probably trying to
call right now, but couldn’t get through because Sam’s bud was
dead. God, if she’d only charged her bud!
Better yet, if only
she’d stayed with Jace … but then he would be in danger, too. Even
now, the thought of him being hurt scared her more than anything
else. She had it bad. Really bad. She was totally, completely in
love with him.
Now she just prayed
she’d live long enough to convince Jace he had to love her
back.
“I told Ezra we
didn’t need to tie you up, but he’s Mr. Safety. You probably know
all about that, right?” Sunny giggled again.
Sam barely resisted
the urge to trip her. That she could be making jokes about Ezra’s
borderline-psycho obsession with doubling up on birth control was
just … wrong. On so very many levels.
“The demons didn’t
get as deeply inside of you, Sam, so you won’t shift forms.” Now
Sunny was getting in on the shoulder patting. What the hell did
these two think she was? Some sort of pet? “It seems like they only
affected your eyes.”
“Her eyes have
changed, Sunshine,” Ezra warned. “They’re usually brown, not blue,
so I’m—”
“You’re worrying too
much. If she was going to shift, she would have already. Stephen
can’t control the change when he’s in a heightened emotional state.
She’s obviously been experiencing quite the physical and emotional
highs with that guy she’s—”
“I don’t want to talk
about Sam’s new lover,” Ezra said.
Sunny sighed, and Sam
could practically hear the eye roll that followed. “You’re not
jealous?”
“No, I’m not
jealous.”
“I mean, after what
you said, what I agreed to … And now you’re acting all jealous?”
Sunny’s hands left Sam’s wrists. She let out a soft huffing sound,
and seconds later cool, climate-controlled air and the smell of the
museum—dust and cinnamon and the sweet scent of rotting wood and
paper—filled Sam’s nose.
They were going into
the museum itself, which gave her a small spark of hope. There had
to be someone around, a janitor or someone who would be able to
hear her when she screamed, or maybe a security program linked to
the museum’s cameras that would alert the police. She just had to
bide her time, wait for the perfect moment to break free from Ezra
and Sunny, and make a run for it.
Even if she made it
far enough to ram into a few of the museum exhibit cases, that
could be her ticket to freedom. The pricier objects were rigged
with alarms that would alert the authorities in case one of them
was stolen. She knew that from the times she’d visited before. The
tour guide had a special code to disarm the alarms so the visually
impaired group she was leading could “see” the artifacts that could
hold up to being fondled by human fingers. So if Sam could tip over
an ancient artifact or two—
“Don’t be
ridiculous.” Ezra sniffed his annoying sniff and led Sam through
the door.
“I’m not being
ridiculous. You wanted me to sleep with her, and now—”
What? Sam’s mind short-circuited for a second, all
thoughts of escape temporarily halted. Ezra had wanted Sunny
to—
“I thought it might
be necessary. I never said that I would enjoy seeing you with
someone else.” Again with the sniff and the throat clearing. Sam
vowed to make Jace use his cop connections to get Ezra held in the
darkest, dankest, moldiest cell in the entire city while he awaited
trial. Torment by his own allergies wasn’t great revenge, but it
was a start. “I simply thought perhaps Sam preferred women. She’s
very timid and cool, not particularly enthusiastic about the art of
lovemaking, and—”
“What?” Sam couldn’t
keep the word from bursting through her lips, even though she knew
she should stay quiet, hopefully encouraging them to let down their
guard.
“I’m sorry,” Ezra
said. “You’re right. This isn’t an appropriate thing to discuss in
the present company. My apologies.”
“Fine,” Sam said
through gritted teeth, though she wanted to say several other, more
colorful things. Ezra was the one who had about as much enthusiasm
in bed as a sack of potatoes. Moldy potatoes with a receding
hairline and persistent sinus infections that made him sniff like
a—
Oh, no. Speaking of sniffing … Sam could smell it
now … the pure evil of the aura demons. They were close. Too close.
It was time to run first and figure out appropriate ways to make
sure Ezra never used his cock for anything but peeing ever again
later.
Luckily, she caught a
flash of light out of the corner of her eye a second later. Sam
shifted her gaze, sliding it from the shadows to the immense gilt
mirror hanging on the wall to her left. There she saw not only her
own frightened face—blue eyes glowing faintly in the dim light—but
also the face of a beautiful blond girl four or five inches taller
than she was. Sunshine.
Sam’s eyes darted to
the mirror again, the sheer size of the thing allowing her to track
Sunny’s movements as she trailed behind Sam and the man who held
her gently by the shoulders—a dignified-looking man in glasses with
a gray beard and a faded brown sweater-vest that fit in with the
museum perfectly. She could see Ezra now, which didn’t bode well
for the professor, though it did satisfy her
curiosity.
He reminded her of
the archaeologist from the Indiana Jones films. Her girlfriends in
college had dragged her along to a marathon showing of the series
at the Antique Film Preservation Institute years ago. Even without
being able to see the movie, Sam had enjoyed it, especially the
first film … the one that had featured an ark filled with angry
spirits that had devoured the lead character’s
enemies.
Sam shivered,
wondering what would happen when Ezra and Sunny completed the
ritual to make the aura demons flesh. Hopefully, no one would ever
have to find out.
Sam hadn’t thought to
look behind her before now, but it made horrible sense that she
could see both Ezra and his new friend. Making a pact with demons
was an excellent way to get killed. If she was truly seeing people
marked for death, then her captors were in as much danger as she
herself.
But they would never
believe her. Whatever the demons and the writing on the box had
promised them, it had already convinced them both to get blood on
their hands. They would never be persuaded to abandon their work
because the girl they were getting ready to sacrifice saw them in a
mirror.
Sacrifice. The word
made Sam’s mouth fill with the horrible sour taste of fear. She
couldn’t wait any longer. Her sanity had barely survived her first
pass as a sacrificial offering to the aura demons and would never
survive another turn at the center of a circle etched in
blood.
“Well, I don’t
think—” Sunny’s words ended in a grunt as Sam spun free of Ezra’s
hands and rammed her head into the other woman’s stomach. Sunny’s
blue eyes widened in shock as she fell, her tailbone slamming hard
into the marble floor, but Sam didn’t wait to see how much real
damage had been done.
“Help! Someone help
me!” Sam screamed as she turned and ran in the opposite direction
of the mirror, heart racing as she hurled herself into the void. It
was too dark in the museum for her eyes to see any patches of dark
or light. She was truly running blind, and every instinct within
her screamed for her to slow down, to wait until she could get her
hands free and at least feel the air in front of her.
But she couldn’t
wait. There was no time, and her life might depend on slamming
into—
“Help! Help me!” Sam
kept screaming as she collided with something housed in a glass
case and hit the ground—hard. Her chest grew tight and what air
she’d had in her lungs felt as if it were trapped midbreath. Still,
she managed to scream for a few seconds more before Ezra’s hand
clamped down on her mouth.
“Shut up!” Ezra’s
eyes were wide, but with fear, not the anger she had anticipated.
“You’re going to ruin your chance. It won’t believe you’re
committed to the cause if—”
“Calm her down. I can
feel it, Ezra. It’s waking up!” Sunny sounded terrified, though Sam
couldn’t see her. From the direction of her voice, it seemed like
she was still on the ground behind her. Good. Sam hoped she’d
broken the woman’s tailbone.
Sam screamed again
around Ezra’s hand, making him add his other palm to her face,
cutting off her air supply until she had nothing left to scream
with. Sam bucked and writhed beneath him as the need to draw breath
quickly became the focus of her world. But his hands didn’t budge.
He just pushed down even harder, until spots swam in front of her
eyes, blocking out the face of the second man she’d seen in twenty
years.
Or third, if she
counted Chang-su.
Her mind flashed on
the image of the poor man with his palms pressed to his bleeding
eyes, and once again she heard his screams as he tried to hold back
the life pouring from his body. Ezra and Sunny were responsible for
that, for the horrific murders of two innocent people. They’d
killed to get the sacrifice for the aura demons. They’d supplied
the box with its deadly contents, and—
Sam moaned low in her
throat and felt tears build behind her eyes as she realized why the
thought of Stephen being involved in this had chilled her to the
core of her being. It wasn’t just the knowledge that he could
transform into some kind of monster. As her skull softened and her
mind sank into the darkness of her own unconscious for the second
time in twenty-four hours, Sam realized why a part of her felt that
her brother had died.
It had been Stephen’s
hands that had placed the last set of eyes in the box. Her brother
had started working part-time for a refurbishment company a couple
of months ago, and came to the bar smelling of paint more than
once. He was the man with blood on his hands, who had been using
his job as a painter to get into the museum. God, she should have
realized.
But how could she
have guessed that her brother would kill someone to feed an
artifact of such potent evil? No matter what part Sunny and Ezra
had played in this, Stephen was the one working with the aura
demons, the one who had willingly let them into his body, into his
mind, to the point that they were so at home there, they could
sense Sam’s intrusion.
So there was no surge
of relief when she heard Stephen’s voice floating through the
cotton that filled her ears. Stephen might be here, but she
couldn’t understand what he was saying, and it wouldn’t matter if
she could. Her brother was no longer someone she could trust. He
was a monster—and not because of the demonlike creature he could
become, but because of the very human evil he had
committed.