Chances Are - By Christy Reece Page 0,64
be much more amenable.”
Her clothes? Pushing aside the nauseating ache in her head, she twisted her head and looked at her wrist. Her watch was gone. A growing horror spiraling through her, she glanced down at her chest. The silver medallion necklace should be lying between her breasts. It was gone, too.
She forced calmness. The jewelry was still here, with her clothes. He had probably just bundled them together and put them away somewhere. LCR could still track her. However, she had to be sure. “My watch and necklace, where are they?”
“Time is of no importance now that you’re with me and your necklace was ugly and common.”
“Where is my jewelry?” she demanded.
“I threw them out, along with your clothes. From now on, everything that touches your skin will come from me.”
“When?”
“When what?”
The horror taking control within her once more, she spoke through clenched teeth, “When did you take my watch and necklace?”
“When I first took you, of course. I threw them, along with your coat, into a small river as we left Paris.”
Why hadn’t she noticed he’d taken them? That was why LCR hadn’t come busting in to save them. They had no way to track her. She was at the mercy of this maniac without any back-up. Dear God, what was she going to do?
Pushing past the panic, she whispered, “Where's Clarissa?”
“She’s in another room, sleeping. She’s much more comfortable than you are.”
“Where are we?”
“In my home.”
“You live in France?”
“Of course not. I live in England.”
“What does that mean? Where are we?”
“Silence!” he bellowed. “You will not question me further.”
Before she could come up with perhaps an appeasing statement, he slapped duct tape over her mouth. She paid little attention to the indignity, as she got her first real look at the monster. He was no longer disguised and she recognized him. It was the policeman from London–the one who had helped her up when the skateboarder had knocked her down. Clarissa had said that a policeman had come to her home, with the ruse of an emergency call. Was this how he got into the women’s homes? Disguising himself as a cop?
Angela watched a transformation take place as tears filled his eyes and his mouth contorted with sorrow. “You were supposed to be the one...the special one. You were going to launch us into stardom. Yet you’ve behaved horribly. Worse than any of the others.” In an instant, the tears disappeared and an unholy evil gleamed in his brownish-green eyes turning them into a murky mud color. “However, if you survive the auditions, you might be able to come with me after all. The cleansing ritual has never failed me yet. We'll just have to wait and see.”
Auditions? Cleansing ritual? That didn't sound like it involved soap and water. The thought of this evil creature touching her in any way sent shivers throughout her body and roiled her stomach. No way in hell would she allow him to do anything to her. He thought a bump on his nose and a scissor stab hurt? He would soon learn that he had abducted the wrong woman. When she was through with him, he wouldn't be able to steal a candy bar much less another human being.
Where this surge of courage came from she didn’t know. How could she feel confident when she was tied so tightly and help wasn’t coming? The answer came like a whisper. All of her LCR life, she had envisioned a time when it would just be her and evil and she would prevail. The breakdown in London with Jake had been an anomaly. She was Angela Delvecchio, LCR operative and one very kick-ass woman. This bastard would rue the day he selected the Dark Angel as his prey.
She heard a scratching sound and then the air was filled with the scent of lit matches.
He stood at the end of the table, holding a candle in his hand. “This is your first audition. Let’s see how you fare.”
Hot flames licked at her foot. Arching her entire body, she struggled against her bonds, the flesh at her wrist tearing as she tried to escape the searing pain. Then more heat, more flames… Agony shot through her. Every confident thought disintegrated. Closing her eyes, Angela screamed behind the tape: Jake, where are you?
Chapter Eighteen
Jake had lost his mind long ago. The second Angela’s GPS signal disappeared, he’d been in a free fall. Where the hell was she? And most important, was she still alive?
Since then, he’d