“Will you at least speak to me?” Vic asked.
Summer pushed herself farther away from him—well, as far away as one could get in a sedan’s passenger seat. When Vic lifted his hand as if to touch her, she flinched and pulled in on herself even more. He’d kidnapped her and Dy. She turned her head sharply to the side, catching Dyami’s unconscious form crumpled in the back seat in her periphery. The knife was gone from his shoulder, blood soaked through his T-shirt. His hands were bound, mouth gagged. His face looked normal now. No longer the grotesque beast-like distortion she’d seen earlier. What the fuck had that been? What had happened to him?
“There’s a lot you don’t understand, sweetie. Things I need to tell you. Things that you should only hear from me.” Vic’s tone was soft, coaxing her with tenderness.
He’d used that tactic with her before, ushering her into his car while she was still in shock. Her memory fuzzy, only a vague recollection of Vic’s fingers caressing her shoulders, he was mumbling words she didn’t understand, soothing her into compliance. A fog had settled on her brain, making what was real seem unreal. She’d thought Dy had bitten her. Bitten her! But that didn’t make any sense. Not only was there no actual bite mark, but normal human beings simply didn’t do that. She shuddered, wrapped her arms around herself. Her fingers brushed against her skin and another weird sensation rushed through her. It made her dizzy; like touching her own flesh was causing her to feel lightheaded.
Maybe I’m feverish and sick. Maybe this is all a dream. Maybe I’ve finally lost my shit.
Vic’s cell rang and she thought of her own sitting on the desk in her purse back at the shop. What had she been thinking, leaving without her purse? She hadn’t been thinking. Her brain had been totally and completely jammed up on what had just gone down. Dyami on the floor, blood seeping into his shirt, the look of pure agony on his face. His features distorted. That must have been what she’d seen—just his reaction to the pain from being attacked.
“Ya, I have Summer in the car with me. The beas…him too.” Vic cursed and the car jerked to the side, swaying Summer in her seat. “I can’t talk right now, I’m driving. You’re going to need to meet us. There’s a complication.” He paused, lowered his voice. “She’s been marked. We’re going to have to take care of that first.”
Summer jolted. Marked? Take care of what first? Her vision wavered, the urge to push everything away and slip into complete denial was so tempting. This had to be a dream. It was too surreal. Vic was her boyfriend. She’d known him for two months. He was charismatic, charming, kind. He was not a murderer. Throwing blades like an expert was not something she normally screened boyfriends for. She hadn’t even known he carried a weapon.
“He’s subdued, tied up in the back. I couldn’t take care of it in public!” he roared. “What would you have me do exactly, take him out and leave him there?”
Take him out? She shot another look at Dy. There was nothing threatening back there. Just a man. Someone she’d probably unwittingly dragged into this twisted situation. How was she supposed to know her boyfriend was psychotic? Was Vic going to take care of her the way he’d taken care of Dy? She swallowed tears, fighting to remain stoic. Her ears rang as her blood pumped hard and fast, her heart ramping to the point of pain. Dy wasn’t just a man though, was he? Dy was the drummer for one of the biggest shows in town. Someone would come looking for him.
A plan filtered into her brain. She needed to run. Get out of the car, find a phone and call for help. A famous rock star had just been stabbed and kidnapped. The media would be all over that and so would the police. She steadied herself, her resolve building as she settled on her hasty plan.
Vic slowed the car at a stop sign, though she knew he wouldn’t halt, as he hadn’t for any of the others they’d crossed. Summer didn’t hesitate. Yanking on the door handle and pushing hard, she braced herself for impact. Except all she felt was a strong tug back before Vic had her throat between his biceps and forearm, dragging her down. She stared up at him, her head on his lap. How she’d gotten there so quickly wasn’t entirely clear.
“You don’t actually think I’m gonna let you bolt, do ya?” He flashed one of his charming smiles, the kind of smile that used to make her melt. “Nah ah, you’re mine, Summer. Mine.” He kept her down with a firm hand on her shoulder, bringing his fingers to her forehead. “It’s time you had a little nap too, I think. Just ’til we get this all sorted.”
She came out of sleep gradually. Waves of awareness brought her back to reality. She didn’t want to wake up, not really. She was having the most amazing dream about Dyami—one with him under her and both of them naked. The dream was drawing her back, pulling her consciousness away once again. And then she curled her legs up, nestled into the pillow, sighed deeply.
Just a few more minutes.
A heartbeat passed, then another.
Pillow?
Her brain snapped online. She was on a bed, unrestrained and feeling very groggy, like she’d been drugged, but not so out of it that she didn’t remember everything that had happened. Dyami. Stabbed. She needed to help him.
Careful.
She sighed again, rolled over, kept her eyes closed and listened. Muffled sounds of cars, pattering of rain, a horn blasted in the distance. The sheet she was lying on smelled like bleach and felt like a low budget motel’s, rough under her fingers.
“I know you’re awake,” Vic said, his voice coming from the other side of the room. “If you want to pretend to sleep that’s fine, but I’m going to talk. There’s things you need to hear.”
Summer opened her eyes to see him sitting on the second bed, legs folded in front of him, hands loose and upturned, like he’d been meditating or something. She pushed herself up and moved farther back on the bed, distancing herself as much as she could.
“You shouldn’t be frightened of me. Everything I’ve done has been for you.”
Summer swallowed the lump in her throat, tried to stifle the shiver that licked her spine. “Where’s Dyami?”
Vic held her gaze, his eyes intense. “He’s of no concern to you.”
She scanned the room. Two beds, three doors. One led to a bathroom, one to outside where she could still hear the sound of cars driving by. The third, presumably, to another room. She shifted her gaze back to Vic. “You need to tell me where he is right now.”
“Summer.” His tone held of note of warning.
She ignored it.
“Victor.” She stood from the bed, feeling better about putting it between her and him. “You stabbed a man in front of me. You kidnapped the two of us. You made some comments about taking care of him. I want to know where he is right now.”
Vic sighed, hung his head for a moment, then nodded in the direction of the next room. “He’s safe there.”
For now. He didn’t say it, but she heard it.
“What are you going to do to him?”
“Summer, you need to sit down and let me explain things to you. It will all make sense when I do.”
“I’m not sure what kind of sense you’re talking about, Vic. How the fuck are you going to make sense of throwing a knife? Injuring a helpless man? Taking hostages?”
He frowned. “You’re not a hostage.”
“So I can leave any time I want?” She glanced over her shoulder, nodded at the door. “I could walk right outside and you wouldn’t stop me?”
“Summer…”
She moved to the door, watching him closely, waiting for him to lose the appearance of calm. He didn’t flinch. Not even when she dropped her hand on the doorknob.
“You don’t want to do that.” He sighed.
She swallowed another lump, accepted his challenge and turned the knob. The door didn’t open as it should have—not completely anyway. It was as if there was something sticky holding it closed, pulling it back. She yanked harder, opened it a little more. “What the fuck?”
Vic was on his feet now, eyebrows sky high. “Shit! You shouldn’t be able to do that!”
She yanked again and the door moved more, spurring Vic into action. He jumped the bed in one leap, came at her like a bull after red. She let the door shut, turned, and met him halfway, pulling her knee up hard and fast to hit him squarely in the balls.
He dropped with a grunt, hitting the floor at her feet. He curled into a ball for mere moments before he was trying to get up again. She jumped over him and headed straight for the adjoining room door, flipped the lock and threw it open. With a quick glance to ensure he was still down, she barreled into the next room, slammed the door shut and then did something she couldn’t explain.
She traced one of her symbols on the knob. The symbol popped into her head and she did it. No hesitation, as if it made total sense for her to draw it. Something jolted her as she finished, like an electric snap or pulse. It was done. Whatever it was.
Seconds later, Vic was banging on the other side, the force of his body hitting the door enough to shake the wall. She backed away until her legs hit a bed. She trembled. He couldn’t get in. She knew this instinctively. What the fuck was going on?
“I think it’s time we made a run for it.”
With a gasp, she turned to find Dy seated on the bed, his arms and legs bound, a gag lose around his chin.
“You gonna untie me or what?”