Chapter Thirty-Five

I was reaching for the handle of my bedroom door when I heard the ringing of my phone from inside. Cursing, I burst into the room and ran for my purse, where I'd left it on the table. Binx, who had been sleeping in a patch of sunlight near the balcony doors, meowed.

“I know,” I said to him. “I should have had it on me. Has it been ringing?”

Binx just stared at me, but I had a feeling that it had been. Whoever was trying to reach me was probably getting anxious. I instantly thought of the bar. I should have closed down temporarily.

Sure enough, the caller ID said Jackie. Shit. “Jackie!” I answered. “Are you all right?”

“Amélie?” Jackie's usually strong voice shook. “Where have you been? I've been callin'.”

“I'm so sorry. What—”

“They've got me,” she cut me off, her tone getting even more tremulous. “They've . . . they've done things—” her voice broke. “To me.”

“Son of a bitch!” I roared. “Who? Michael? Did he touch you?”

She started crying.

“I'm going to fucking kill him.” No, it didn't make sense. I knew I couldn't kill Michael. He was already dead. It just came out. One of those things you say. But, in a way, I meant it. I couldn't kill him but I could send him back to Hades. For Michael, it was the same thing. “Where are you?”

“I, uh, I don't know. Fuck.” She was breathing hard, trying to pull herself together. “They blindfolded me when they grabbed me. But we didn't drive far. I can only see trees outside the window. The room they've got me in looks like a fucking Amish man decorated it. There's a goddamn braided rug. Who the fuck decorates with that shit these days? They fucking maniacs.”

And there was the Jackie I knew. It was a relief to hear that she hadn't been broken. Jackie had probably been scared when she couldn't reach me. And I assumed she didn't have long with that phone. But now she had me and she was feeling stronger. She knew I wouldn't let her down. And I wouldn't. Because I knew exactly where she was. Latah Valley, near the golf course.

“I got you,” I said. “I know where you are.”

“What?” Jackie's voice collapsed again, this time in relief. “How?”

“I was just there. I think I was in the same room.”

“You . . . they had you too?”

“Yeah, but I got out, and I'll get you out too. Don't worry. I'm coming.”

“Just call the police, girl!” Jackie hissed. Then she went quiet. “Oh, God. I hear footsteps,” she whispered. “I gotta go. They don't know I have my phone.” She clicked off before I could say anything.

“I'm going to bottle you, motherfucker,” I growled at Michael as if he were there. “And I'm not giving you to Hades. I'm going to bury you. Maybe I'll find some backwoods outhouse and toss you in. A family of those fuckers who live off the grid can shit on you for generations.”

Binx cried.

“I know,” I said and turned toward the door. “I have to be smart about this. I'm going to tell the guys.”

I yanked open the door and shouted, “I need you! All of you! Right the fuck now!”

Footsteps pounded, turning the corridor into a vortex of thunder. The entire Cerberus reached me in seconds, eyes wide.

Before they could say anything, I said, “They've got Jackie.”

“What?” Declan asked. “The Host?”

“Yes. Michael took her. And I think he raped her.”

“What?!” Dominic roared. And then the roar turned into a howl.

The other two men joined him, lifting their heads to send the sound echoing off the ceiling. It should have been silly, grown men howling like that, but they didn't sound like men howling. They sounded like hounds. Not just any canines. Hounds from Hell. And those howls were their battle cries.

It sent shivers down my spine. All I could think of was that Bram Stoker quote, “Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!”

Well, my night boys and I were about to conduct a symphony of pain that would horrify Dracula himself.