Black bird a nevermore d.., p.62
Black Bird: A Nevermore Duet, page 62
He couldn’t explain the mixture of emotions, or the sickening feeling in his stomach as he stepped forward. His skin prickled, and something in his chest felt heavy. “Tell me!” He found himself nearly shouting, waiting for Sarah or Kane to give him something … anything.
“Rhaena thinks Wren was taken.”
CHAPTER 30
ENEMIES AND ALLIES
The place was a mess. Rhaena had never been in Wren’s apartment before, but when her yellow Beetle had still been parked next to her truck, a sinking feeling in her gut told her to run up and check. The door was left wide open, and the smell of cat shit hit her like a wrecking ball as soon as she’d pushed her way in. Denver was stuck in his carrier which was turned over on its side, a floor lamp was busted on the floor, and Wren’s bag still sat packed up by the side of the doorway. Her immediate thought was that Foster and her assholes had tossed Wren’s place too … but the rest of the apartment didn’t look suspicious of that. Her cat was a dead giveaway. Wren wouldn’t have left him in there and just took off. And how would she have gone anywhere without a vehicle?
“Rhaena …” Jenkins said dreadfully, pulling a glove out and snapping it over his hand. He knelt down, sliding a paint pallet aside to reveal a spot of blood on the floor. She thought she’d be sick. She immediately dialed Athan and had told him to get here. Sarah had taken the phone, and as much as Rhaena dreaded telling her what she knew had probably happened, she forced it out anyway. They needed to call it in.
“We have to tell Foley,” Rhaena ground out, fighting her emotions.
“I’ll do it. You’re not supposed to be anywhere near this case.”
“How could we possibly get in trouble for this?” she asked forcefully, trying, and failing, to get her rising temper and panic in check. “All we did was come here for the truck and to give her back this phone! How could we have known?”
“I agree with you. But you were in there, too. He’s hyped. I’m the only one left with a badge right now, Babe … lemme call it in.”
She reluctantly nodded and walked further into Wren’s apartment, turning her camera on and recording every step. She might not have a badge, but she could at least gather enough to have when forensics came to kick them out. Deep down, she knew Foley wouldn’t expect her to sit by and do nothing. Angry or not. Car doors slammed downstairs, and she peeked out the window, surprised to see Brent Stratford following hurriedly behind Athan and Sarah. “What the hell?” she said under her breath. They flew up the stairs, and Athan warned Sarah not to touch anything before she pushed past him into the door. Rhaena felt her heart drop into her stomach when Sarah covered her mouth and surveyed the space.
“Fuck …” Sarah whispered, leaning down to open Denver’s carrier. The cat howled at her, begging to be let out.
“Don’t touch it yet, Sarah!” Rhaena warned. “We can’t let him out until the team gets here to look at the place.”
“But he’s been stuck in here for hours!”
“I know … but we have to wait.” It took everything in her not to tear up, but she held her composure and Jenkins met her eyes.
“Anybody but Foley would have told us we couldn’t report her missing for another few hours. He’s sending Foster.”
Sarah jumped at the name, seemingly remembering something. She pulled a card out from her jacket pocket and dialed the number on her phone. Nobody questioned her. “Hey,” she said, already pacing. “I’m not leaving. Tell me you were the one who trashed this place. Please tell me it only looks like this because ours did too …” The look of devastation that she gave Athan was enough to rip her heart out. “I’m not fucking leaving! What are they gonna do, arrest me for checking in on my best friend?” Athan pulled her into his arms and Brent stood ghostly pale in the doorway. “Fine. See you in a minute.” Sarah hung up and dialed another number.
“What’d she say?” Rhaena asked, already knowing the answer.
“They didn’t have reason to go through her apartment when they trashed ours. I’m calling Wren’s parents.”
“Don’t tell them anything yet, Sarah. We have to make sure this was a kidnapping first.” Rhaena backed herself toward the blood on the floor, desperately trying to hide it from Sarah’s view. Athan gently stopped her with a hand on her phone.
“She didn’t make it there, love. We have nothing to offer them yet. All they’ll do is panic and come down here, and whoever took her will just have more to use against her.” His voice was so soothing, even Rhaena shuddered at it. So much had changed about him since he’d been with her.
“So, they don’t deserve to know?” Brent piped up behind them, trembling with nerves. “You’re just gonna do nothing?”
“Why are you even here, Brent?” Sarah snapped, jerking her face toward him. “You’re the last person anybody wants to see. I told you not to fucking come.”
“Because I—” Brent paused, biting his lip and shaking his head. They all waited for him to finish, but instead he took another hard look around the apartment before turning away and making to leave.
“You’re a lawyer,” Jenkins started, stopping Brent in his tracks. “You’re not a cop. Keep your mouth shut, and just let us do our job … alright? We’ll find whoever did this and bring her home.”
Brent looked over his shoulder at Athan, and if looks could have killed … “If she ends up being another one of those bodies on your board because you didn’t do the right thing … I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Try it, Brent. You’re the last person that should be talking about ‘the right thing’,” Sarah sneered, a low growl rumbling in her throat. “This isn’t his fault. It’s mine. And if you ever talk to him like that again, I’ll gut you like a fucking fish. Nobody cares about her more than I do. Interfere in this, and you won’t like the way I handle you.”
Rhaena caught notice of the way Stratford’s eyes blanched, losing focus and appearing terrified by some distant thought or realization. “Stratford,” Rhaena called, earning his attention. “We’ll find her. Go home and lock your doors. Stay alert and don’t talk to anybody about anything. Okay?” He simply nodded and clunked slowly down the stairs.
The team arrived quicker than she’d expected, and Foster questioned all of them thoroughly before kicking them out, getting as much information as she could about Wren’s whereabouts before she’d left Kane’s apartment on Sunday. They found more blood close to where Wren’s painting of Denver sat unfinished and toppled over. Sarah had nearly lost her mind when she saw it. Foster allowed Rhaena to take the cat when she asked, and they all gathered outside the coffee shop below Wren’s apartment. All but Jenkins, who stayed behind, vowing to help in whatever way he could with her disappearance. Brent had actually left, but somehow Rhaena felt strongly that he wouldn’t go home.
“What was his deal when you went off on him up there?” Rhaena asked as Sarah leaned against the hood of the truck. Sarah crossed her arms and stared at the curb, lost in her worry.
“I dunno,” she breathed. “Wren said he’d been really off lately.”
“But would he know anything?”
Sarah finally raised her face, and Athan lit a cigarette, offering it to her. “I don’t see how. And if he did, I doubt he would have kept it to himself. Not when somebody’s life was on the line.”
“Especially hers,” Athan added, flashing her a look. “Weren’t you the one thinking there was some unspoken thing between them?”
“Watch it, Blood Daddy …” Sarah pointed her cigarette at him, smirking and taking a long drag.
“Blood …” Rhaena whispered under her breath. “What if this was—”
“Don’t,” Athan started, his face dropping into a predatory scowl. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t.”
Sarah shot up from the hood. “Dahlia?” Athan cursed quietly and turned away. “You think she would have taken her? Why?”
The look he shot her gave Rhaena pause, but she ignored him and looked at Sarah. “She sent the guy that Wren shot, didn’t she? They were clearly after her once before. What if she’s trying to smoke you out?”
Athan threw a hand out, frustrated. “You go after that coven, and you might as well be offering yourself up on a silver platter, Sarah. You made me hand that platter over to the precinct once already. Don’t ask me to do that again. Not with her. You’re not going anywhere near that bar.”
“Athan, what if she’s in there?!”
“Sarah—”
“If it were me instead, you wouldn’t hesitate.”
Rhaena watched them stare into each other like they were torn between ripping each other wide open, or … ripping each other wide open. Athan breathed a long sigh. “You don’t have any idea what they’re like. What she’s like. They’re loyal to her. It’s fucking suicide.”
“So, you’d rather me offer Wren up instead? Don’t ask me to do that!”
“What if we make them … unloyal?” Rhaena cut in, both Athan and Sarah turning towards her. “What would turn them against her? Couldn’t we turn them to our side?”
Sarah stilled, staring off across the street. “Turn them …” she whispered.
“What have you got? What are you thinking?” Rhaena asked, dismissing Athan’s glare.
Sarah stepped toward him, smirking as she drew her cigarette back to her lips. “I think it’s time to go pay our friend Nick a little visit … Baby.”
“Christ,” Athan growled, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“What are you gonna do?” Rhaena asked, stepping closer.
Sarah turned toward her and glanced at Denver through the windshield. The cat was making himself at home on the dashboard, and Rhaena silently prayed he wouldn’t relieve himself in her car. “Take him somewhere safe. Keep an eye on Brent, and make sure he isn’t following us around, or trying anything stupid that’s gonna get us figured out. If the bitch wants me, then maybe it’s time for me to show myself. I’ve got my own cards to play.”
“Sarah, don't get yourself killed.” Rhaena looked at Athan, and a tinge of pain swept through her chest when she met eyes with her partner. “Both of you better be careful. And don’t leave me out. Keep your phones on and call me.”
“We’ll be fine. Just be ready for anything.” Sarah reached around her and pulled her into a tight hug. Rhaena sighed over her shoulder, hugging her back.
“I’m sorry … I’m sorry for all the hell you’ve been through.”
She didn’t let go, instead squeezing her a bit tighter. “Don’t be. They’re gonna be sorry for putting me through it. Going through hell is when I know myself best. They already tried taking the best of me … now they’ll get the worst.”
He rarely made it home in time for dinner, but as Nick Specter walked through his front door, the smell of something Italian had him salivating. The pounding of little feet sounded down the hallway to his left, as he tossed his keys into a ceramic bowl and shrugged off his winter coat.
“Daddy!” His son beamed, crashing into his thigh and wrapping his little limbs around it. He bent over to pick him up and hauled him to his chest.
“What in the world have you been getting into?” Nick asked, taking in all the different colors smudged on his tiny shirt, and all over his hands.
“Momma said I was a good ortis!” He seemed so incredibly proud of himself, turning his chubby fingers over and showing off the other side. “Come see! I drew you so many pictures today!”
“An artist, you mean? Does Mama know you didn’t keep it on the paper?” The little boy’s mouth pressed into a tight line and his eyes boggled. “Better go clean up before she finds out.” He lowered him back down to the floor and watched him race back down the hall to the bathroom. Nick couldn’t keep the adoring smile off his face. He walked through the living room and into the kitchen to find his wife stirring a pot with her back turned toward him.
“If you were trying to sneak in, I think Reese already gave you away,” she said without turning around. He could hear the smile in her voice. “Come taste this.”
He pressed himself against her back, sliding an arm around her waist as she carefully held up a wooden spoon and blew on it gently before inching it toward his mouth. He sipped the red sauce, smacking his lips and nodding his approval as he ducked into her neck and pressed a soft kiss to it. “Better than last time.” He snickered into her skin.
“Oh, screw you.” Evie snorted, trying to pull out of his hold. Her chestnut hair rolled over her shoulder. “Last time I was distracted.”
“I remember.” He lowered his voice and let his hands explore, slipping beneath her shirt. “I take full responsibility for that.”
“Stop your shit and go wash up … pervert.” She giggled, batting him away. “It’ll be ready in ten minutes. Oh, and could you restart the dryer when you get upstairs?”
“You got it.” He kissed her cheek and headed upstairs, checking the lint tray before fluffing the clothes, and closing the bedroom door behind him as he slipped inside. As he flipped on the light, his smile slowly faded and a nervous rage fluttered in the pit of his stomach when he turned the corner to see Athan Kane standing at his dresser, holding a picture of Evie on their wedding day. Nick swallowed hard. “Kane? What, um—” He cleared his throat. “What are you doing here?”
“She’s lovely.” Kane admired, turning the frame toward him, and giving him a threatening look. “Why don’t you have any photos of your family in your office?” Nick felt nauseous, glancing towards the top drawer where he kept his gun.
“I’d rather not give anybody reason to seek them out. I’m sure you can understand that.”
Kane huffed a laugh through his nose. “So, I suppose giving someone another reason makes them any safer?” He knew … he knew what he’d done. Kane was coming here to make good on his promises.
“Is that why you’re here, Kane? Whatever you’re planning, I’m begging you to leave them out of it. They’ve done nothing wrong. If it’s me you want, then take me somewhere and get it over with. Please … don’t hurt my family.”
“I like you begging, Specter. You’re a lot more entertaining that way.” Kane turned and walked over to Evie’s side of the bed, taking up another photo of Reese from her nightstand and staring at it. Nick sprinted for the dresser, tearing the drawer open and reaching for his gun. To his horror, he couldn’t feel it—and even worse, Kane didn’t react at all.
“You looking for this?” another voice sounded from the bathroom doorway. He slowly turned around to see Sarah St. James, waving his pistol. “Don’t look so surprised, Nick. You had to know I’d find out.” She leaned against the door frame. “Why’d you do it?”
“Please.” Nick held his palms up, glancing between his unwelcome visitors. “I tried to warn you. Keep them from getting their hands on you. The government was after you, and so were those psychos. Kane, please … tell her I warned you! I’m not your enemy, here!”
“No, you’re right … the psychos are my enemy. So, you thought it would be a better idea to give them my blood that you got without my consent from the hospital?”
“I thought it would keep them quiet. I thought they’d leave you alone! I was helping you!”
“You were helping yourself, Specter. I told you what would happen if you fucked with something that was mine.” Kane’s eyes darkened and Nick nearly pissed himself. The glass of the frame cracked beneath Kane’s grip and spider-webbed across the photo of Reese.
“Please! Please don’t hurt them, I’m fucking begging you!”
He thought he’d vomit when he watched fangs slide past Kane’s top lip as it curled into a vicious smile. “Beg harder,” he growled, taking a step towards him. Nick’s face darted over at Sarah, who stood there smiling with his gun still in her hand.
“Sarah! Please! Do something!”
She pushed off the door frame and took a couple slow steps. “You’re right …” She smirked, raising the gun and pointing it at him. He nearly choked on the bile creeping up his throat. “Maybe it is a bit much to go after your family. I know how that feels.” She took another step. “They have somebody very important to me. Get down on your fucking knees.” He did as she asked, lowering himself and feeling the damp evidence of his piss in the front of his pants as he met the floor.
“I swear I don’t know who, or what, you’re talking about. I didn’t have anything to do with whatever it is. All I did was give them the blood bags.” Nick kept his palms raised, and eyed Kane as he took another step closer to him. There was nothing natural or human about the guy, and he remembered that visit to his office when he’d picked him up by the neck with one hand. He’d die tonight. It was obvious that no amount of begging was gonna change that. But maybe he could at least spare his family.
“I believe you.” Sarah nodded, holding the gun steady. “But I’m still not convinced I should let you live. Maybe you should try offering me something? Unless that precious little boy isn’t worth it to you?”
“I don’t have anything to offer you, Sarah. I’m broke. I’m in debt. I’m under the thumb of some very powerful people, and I had no other way out. Please, I’ll do anything. You can kill me. Just don’t hurt them. And don’t do it here. I don’t want them to go through that.”
She leaned in and kept his gun pointed right at his face as she snarled, her eyes growing two shades darker, and her voice completely changed. “There’s always another way, you groveling little pussy. Why the fuck should I look at you like you didn’t have another choice, when you took every one of mine away from me? You had a decision to make. Enemies, or allies … and you chose wrong.”
“Dear God …” Nick breathed, every syllable shaking and broken. “You—you’re a—”
“I’m the only hope you’ve got of not suffering a slow, painful death. But you know Nick? I’m not as grimy as you.” She grabbed him by the hair and craned his neck back. He felt more warmth trickle down the inside of his thigh. “I’ve always been a forgiving person. So, I’ll give you one more chance to be on the right side of this war. Otherwise, Athan gets a well-deserved dinner.”
