"Or she's not moving. Get someone on the ground."
"Already on the way, my lord. I should have a report momentarily.” He hurried to keep up with Raphael, who was taking the stairs two at a time. Juro met them at the bottom and led the way through the big double doors and out to the driveway where two SUVs waited, engines idling.
Duncan's phone rang again as they sped down Pacific Coast Highway toward Santa Monica, the direction of both the airport and Cyn's last known location. Raphael was aware of the phone's ringing and of Duncan's low-voiced conversation, but his mind was filled with thoughts of Cyn. He had enemies. And Cyn was too human, too vulnerable. And too important to him, dammit.
Duncan finished his call. “The phone has been found in a parking garage, along with her backpack,” he said grimly. “Her last call was to her own home number right after she left the estate this morning. Probably checking messages."
In the front seat, Juro looked over his shoulder and spoke without being asked. “We have filed a flight plan to Tucson, my lord,” he said. “Your people in Phoenix will meet us on the ground."
Chapter Fifty
Everything ached. Cyn tried to move, to relieve the pressure on her right arm which was twisted somehow and beginning to fall asleep. Panic flared as memory returned, but she forced herself to remain still and quiet.
She was in a car, or a vehicle of some sort, and moving. There was tape across her mouth; she could feel the pull of the adhesive on her cheeks. Her hands and feet were bound, probably with the same tape as her mouth, and her hands were behind her back. She heard soft sobbing nearby. So she wasn't alone in her captivity. Elizabeth, she remembered, and knew immediately who had them, even before her brain produced the final image it had seen before her loss of consciousness. That damned thick-necked PI of Jabril's. Which meant they were on their way back to Texas. But how far had they gotten?
She rolled over and struggled to see something, anything, thankful the asshole hadn't blindfolded her at least. It was dark outside, utterly dark, made even more so by the tinted windows of the Land Rover. Land Rover. They were in the cargo compartment of her own truck, which was actually very good news. If she could get loose somehow, there were weapons hidden in here that would come in very handy, even against a vampire. Especially against a vampire.
She scooted around carefully, taking in more detail. Liz lay next to her, similarly bound. She was staring mutely at Cyn with eyes that were swollen and red from crying, so she'd probably been conscious for awhile. Hopefully that meant the younger woman hadn't been Tasered, or at least not as much. Cyn met the girl's gaze carefully, making certain she knew Cyn was awake and aware. The look of terror on her face said she understood as well as Cyn who had them and what the future might hold if they didn't manage to escape. Cyn felt a surge of angry frustration at their predicament, but fought it down, saving it for later. She would use that anger, but not yet.
Okay, so they were in her truck and the PI was probably driving. He'd been alone when he Tasered her—she felt a renewed rage surge at the memory and swore she'd pay him back in kind if she ever got the chance. But how to get that chance?
The ambient light brightened suddenly, and Cyn froze. They were pulling into some sort of a truck stop or gas station. She could hear voices nearby and the steady hum of diesel engines left idling while their drivers took care of whatever business brought them here. The Land Rover's front door snicked open and the interior lights flashed on briefly, before she heard a muttered curse and the lights went off. The car door slammed.
Silence, and then the clunk of a nozzle being inserted into the fuel tank right behind Cyn, where she lay against the side wall of the cargo compartment. She smelled the fumes and heard the gurgle of the gasoline as Jabril's PI filled the tank. It went on for long enough that she knew the tank had been almost empty. She'd topped off on the way to Luci's, but the V8 engine was hell on gas, so they'd traveled less than two hundred miles since the abduction. Unless this wasn't their first stop for fuel. Liz might know about that, but she was as mute as Cyn for the moment.
The gas cap ratcheted closed and then more silence until the car shifted with the weight of someone climbing back into the driver's seat. Cyn started making noise, kicking the side of the compartment, shouting wordlessly beneath the tape.
"Shut up back there or I'll give you another jolt,” a man's voice growled.
Cyn responded by making more noise than ever, knowing he could not only hear her, but that it irritated him—hopefully enough to do something about it.
The engine started and the truck began to move. Cyn's heart sank and she thought she'd failed, but she didn't give up, screaming even louder, pounding her bound feet against the door and sides of the SUV. Liz joined in, either because she figured Cyn had a plan or just because she was scared and pissed off. Cyn cheered her silently, the more noise the better.
"Goddammit!” the driver swore. The truck swerved, traveled a short distance and came to a halt with the engine running. It was darker here, and Cyn knew their captor had pulled away from whatever public area they'd been in before. The back hatch opened suddenly and the PI's flushed and angry face appeared. Cyn's gaze went immediately to the Taser in his right hand.
"You shut the fuck up, bitch,” he said to Cyn, clearly seeing her as the instigator. “I only need you alive, not functioning, you got it? I'll give you a jolt that'll make a drooling idiot look like Einstein compared to you."Cyn stared at him, but continued making noises, pleading now. The PI frowned, then turned to Liz and ripped the tape off her face. “What's the problem, missy?” he asked nastily.
Liz screamed as he tore skin along with the tape, and it took her several minutes as she struggled to control her crying enough to talk.
"Fuck this,” the PI snarled and moved to close the hatch, but Liz rose up slightly and cried out, forestalling him.
"Please,” she sobbed. “Please, sir. We have to—” She blushed furiously, swallowed hard and whispered. “We have to pee."
Good girl, Cyn thought. This was the Liz who had engineered her own escape from Texas.
"Shit. Fucking women got bladders like peas. Dammit. I should let you piss yourselves, but then I'd have to smell it all the way to New Mexico."
New Mexico. Cyn thought furiously. He was taking them to New Mexico which meant Jabril's territory. How much farther?
"All right. All right,” he muttered to himself and glared at the two women. “I'm gonna’ pull over to the head. You can go one at a time. And no funny business or the other one pays, you got it? The hands stay tied, so you better hope—"
"Please,” Liz whined. “I won't be able to get my pants down.” Her eyes widened and she stared at him in horror. “Oh God,” she whispered and began to sob even harder.
"Fuck that, what do you think I am? Some kind of pervert? Look, shut the fuck up, the hands stay tied, but I'll switch ‘em to the front and you count yourself lucky I can't stand the smell of piss. You too, tough girl,” he sneered at Cyn. “You better think of little sweetie here before you try anything."
Cyn nodded.
He drove the truck another short distance, parked and came around to open the hatch again. He freed Liz first, cutting the tape from her hands while her feet were still bound, making no effort to be gentle as he rolled her over and quickly rebound her hands in front. Then he slit the tape on her feet with the same knife and yanked her from the back of the truck. “Go on. You got five minutes."
"Five minutes, but I don't—"
"Five minutes, missy. Take it or leave it."
Liz took it. The hatch came down and Cyn remained still, listening to the PI's gritty footsteps outside. He paused and the truck rocked slightly under his weight as he leaned against the side near the front. Cyn raised her head cautiously and took a quick look around. They were pulled up in front of a cinder block restroom, the kind one saw at public beaches and along highways all through the American west. In the near distance, she could still see the lights of the truck stop, could hear the whoosh of air brakes and the calls of the drivers—tantalizing close, but too far away to do her any good.
She ducked back down below the windows and tried to come up with a plan. With her hands taped in front, she'd have a lot more options, but she didn't want to take the chance he'd either hurt Liz or, for that matter, kill Cyn and leave her by the side of the road. Liz had to be Jabril's first priority, but he'd want Cyn for payback, not only against her but against Raphael. She shivered at the thought of what the Texas vampire lord would do if he ever got his hands on her. Mirabelle had been quite eloquent in her descriptions of Jabril's abuse of his blood slaves.
Thinking of Mirabelle made her realize someone should have missed them by now. Luci would have called when they didn't come back for the birthday party. Would Raphael think she'd run away from him again? No. Even if he thought she'd run, it made no sense to take Liz with her. He'd know something was wrong and he'd know Jabril was involved. But would he find her in time? It had been hours since they'd been taken, hours filled with daylight and sunshine which gave their captor a considerable head start.
The hatch opened without warning to reveal Liz, tape once again silencing her mouth, binding her hands in front.
"Okay, bitch, your turn,” the PI growled. He grabbed Cyn by the hair and yanked her out of the truck, letting her fall. She cracked her elbow hard on the asphalt and let him hear her cry of pain. The more scared and helpless he thought her, the better. He crouched next to her, one knee crushing her hip, holding her in place while he freed her hands from behind then roughly turned and bound them in front. Standing, he bent to cut the tape around her ankles and yanked her to her feet.
Cyn stumbled on legs gone numb and weak from the combination of the Taser shock and hours of immobility, but she was careful to keep her eyes downcast so he wouldn't see her rage.