Chapter Forty-Nine
Jake’s head was throbbing. Wisps of cloud memory still fogged up his brain like torn cotton balls. He was unable to shake them. Somehow, some way, he’d lost the last several hours of his life.
One minute he’d been taking out the trash… the next, he’d been waking up here, in this posh velvet chair, with his wrists bound behind his back and each of his booted ankles tied to a chair leg.
The ropes were well knotted, and damned if they weren’t also enchanted. Normal ropes, even silk, Jake could have shredded with a single tug. But these held. He’d tried to compress the chair beneath his strength too, but it also remained in one piece.
Nothing natural could hold Jake. But clearly his captor knew that. She’d put a lot of effort into getting him here in this room in some fancy house he’d never seen before. And despite her appearance, he knew this wasn’t Angel’s house. There was nothing about it that even remotely reminded him of her. Nothing except the woman standing before him.
She looked exactly like Angel. Same hair, eyes, body. She even smelled like Angel, under the perfume she wore. But there was something in her expression that Jake didn’t like. This room, the chair he was bound to, the ropes he’d been tied with, the guards at the door, the house he’d been dragged through… her behavior in general. It wasn’t like her. Not even a little bit.
The crazy thing was, he was in a plush, private room with the woman he loved and wanted to ravish continuously for weeks, if not months. She even had him tied to a chair. If he wasn’t so pissed off and scared to death for the real Angel, he would be well past flattered. He’d be turned on like mad. Having his way with her on top of his car had been like the Storyteller grabbing hold of him and showing him what heaven could be like and then sending him right back down to Earth. Now he wanted back up. He wanted back in, damn it.
The human in him, the man in him, had been temporarily sated. But the vampire in him, the monster in him, was red-eyed and fuming, chomping at the bit and madder than hell. He was hungry. His vampire would literally have given anything to sink his fangs into the woman he’d chosen as his mate. He would give anything to make her forever his.
As it was, he kept having to remind his body that this wasn’t Angel, so it was going to have to simmer the fuck down. He simply knew it in his gut. And that was what pissed him off.
She was watching him as if she knew what he was thinking. Her brown eyes glittered in the lamp light. She was amused at his confusion and anger. “Who are you?” he asked as she smirked and turned her back to him to mess with a bunch of crap on top of a dresser that looked just as expensive as everything else in the room.
“Now why would you ask me such a thing?” she replied coyly with Angel’s voice. She glanced at him briefly over her shoulder. The look was hot. Fuck it was hot.
So he made himself imagine his grandmother in her underwear. But his grandmother had actually been a beautiful older woman, strong and proud. So he then had to imagine he was playing baseball. Badly.
By the time he clumsily swung at his third fast ball in his head, Jake had managed to regain control.
Meanwhile, the thing that looked like Angel poured something from a vial into a bowl, and stirred it with a black onyx wand. Red smoke curled up from the bowl’s interior. She was using magic, and he didn’t have to be a genius to guess that magic was probably meant for him.
His gaze narrowed. “What did you do with Angel? And where is Sharpe?” He also wanted to know what the hell had happened, in general. All he could surmise was that his mind had been completely overshadowed by some tremendous dark force.
At last, Jake’s captor stopped stirring. She shook her lovely head, recapped the vial, and sighed. “Well I guess I knew you’d figure it out.” She replaced the vial in its stand, put her hands on her hips, and turned to face him. The look on her beautiful face was sorely disappointed. “I was just hoping it wouldn’t be until we were finished.”
Jake didn’t say anything. He was waiting for her to continue. With any luck, she would spill everything here and now.
“Your clan brother has been returned to your safe house and has no idea anything is amiss. In fact, when he wakes up, he’ll just think he had too much to drink.”
Jake waited.
His captor gave him a wry smile. “Miss Clemens is with the Taal King. You put her there yourself. Of course, you wouldn’t have if I hadn’t gotten to you first. You see, the blood in your veins is quite strong against things like possession and mind control. I had to alter it from the inside before Lord Malek was able to enter your mind and twist it to his will.”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “Same goes for your friend. He’s Withered,” she smiled winsomely, shaking her head. “He’s an interesting one for certain. The mind of a man once dead is even more difficult to control than the mind of a Chippewa vampire, it would seem. But no matter. The bullets I sent into both your bodies were enchanted just right, and within minutes, Lord Taal was able to get in and do what needed to be done.”
She turned away a little as horror washed over Jake. It flooded him like a cold soup, making his fingers and toes prickle threateningly.
“He commanded you to track your flighty little girlfriend down,” she told him. “You obeyed. And how.” She grinned. “You’re an inspiration, Jacob Crow. That’s why I’ve chosen you.”
Jake ignored the latter part of what she said and focused on Angel and Malek. “Why didn’t he just go get her himself?” he demanded. His skin was crawling. He didn’t feel so good.
“That one’s on you, actually,” she said. She extended a long, slender forefinger and attempted to brush it along his cheek, but he turned his head away. When he avoided her touch, she pouted. “You gave her that damn pendant of yours, and the moment you did he couldn’t get anywhere near her. Pretty impressive, if you ask me. Something so strong it kept even the Taal king at bay.”
The bear claw. It was enchanted to ward off unseelie fae – as long as they meant the wearer some kind of harm.
Sickness roiled in Jake’s gut. If Malek now had her in his possession and the pendant had kept him at bay before, then that meant the Taal was planning her some kind of harm. His only consolation was that biting someone hard enough to draw blood was one hundred percent considered “harm.” And it wouldn’t kill Angel.
It would just make her Malek’s. Forever.
“The pendant’s right back where it belongs now, around your neck once more,” the Terror said gleefully, nodding at Jake’s broad chest.
He instinctively looked down, but though he could feel the pendant’s cool metal against his hot skin now that he concentrated on it, it was under his shirt so he couldn’t see it.
No, no, no, he thought. Angel! He bared his teeth and asked very quietly, “Where. Is. She?”
“Now, now. You and I both know that giving you her location would spoil all the fun. You’d just find a way to get it to that mega-fine clan leader of yours using your mind or some such nonsense. You’re very resourceful. But then the party would be over.” She shook her head, waving her hand dismissively. “So, no. I think not.” But then she smiled wickedly. Cruelly. “If it means anything though handsome, your little warrior went kicking and screaming. She threw some good punches too, before Malek had her in chains.”