Chapter Ten—The Abduction #2
And Sara had learned, as she matured and her mind opened to the higher planes through meditation and esoteric study, that it was all too easy to use Power for personal greed and self-fulfillment.
Nim had always been there, guiding her so that she wouldn’t manipulate others.
Each person must have free will. And once, just once, when Loser Number One had made off with her cash and she was preparing a real curse, Nim had lifted a mystic veil and given her a glimpse into the dark world where entities existed that fed off fear and hate.
Sara still shuddered at the thought of almost taking that path. The path that Adam Baylor was on.
Every time Lucas had talked about Adam Baylor, Sara had felt a cold dread creeping into her bones. The man was one of those entities who fed off fear and hate.
She began to chant silently, calling in the Light, letting it fill her. She had to stay strong. She had a feeling she was about to meet the devil.
****
Michael had only been at the mansion a few minutes when the doorbell rang again, and Benton soon appeared in the doorway to the study.
“This just came by express mail,” he said as he handed a flat package to Mr. Smith.
“Did you see the truck?” Lucas asked. “What did the guy look like?”
The butler lifted his head and sniffed. “It was a mail truck, sir. The man was in uniform. Medium height, medium build, brown hair, brown eyes.” He turned to his employer. “Will there be anything else?”
“No, no, you may go,” Mr. Smith said distractedly as he pulled at the cardboard tab. “I wonder what…” His voice trailed off as he pulled a single paper out. He read it quickly and turned pale.
Lucas took the paper. “A certain young lady would appreciate it if you would kindly produce the document that was purchased at Sotheby’s auction. She is sure you will know to what she is referring.” Baylor. Such polite language. He would never put a threat in writing.
“No address to deliver it to?” Michael asked as he looked over his shoulder.
“He’s too clever for that,” Lucas said and swore under his breath.
“Who’s ‘he’? Do you know who’s behind this?”
Lucas nodded. “A man named Adam Baylor. He had a representative at the auction. He’s… He’s a collector, too.” No need to tell Smith the whole story.
“Adam Baylor…” Mr. Smith knitted his eyebrows together. “Doesn’t he own an international brokerage house? Seems that I’ve heard the name.”
“That would be the man,” Lucas answered grimly. “He’s also suspected of laundering money for terrorists worldwide.”
“Oh, my!” Mr. Smith said, putting his hand over his heart. “Then our Sara is in real trouble.”
If only you knew. Lucas paced the floor, the wolf snarling inside him.
“What happens next?” Michael asked.
Lucas stopped. How could the guy look and act so calm? There seemed to be a blue light defining the edges of his aura. Warlock magic? He took to pacing again. “Baylor is a sadistic son-of-a-bitch,” he said. “He’ll make us wait. Give us time to worry. Then he’ll call.”
Mr. Smith started wringing his hands. “My number is unlisted.”
Lucas grimaced. “That won’t be a problem for him.
” But what would happen to Sara in the meanwhile?
For once, he wished he didn’t know how cruel his grandfather could be.
He knew the man would look for any weakness and use it against her.
Balor liked to thoroughly humiliate his victims as well as inflict real pain.
Lucas closed his mind to the torture and mutilations that had been inflicted on the women in the French, Spanish, and Scottish Inquisitions, all of which had been orchestrated by none other than Balor manipulating the minds of zealous, unbalanced priests.
“Shouldn’t we call the police? The FBI?” Michael asked.
“No!” Mr. Smith and Lucas answered him at the same time. Lucas knew not all of Mr. Smith’s “collection” was purchased legitimately and the man wouldn’t want police getting involved in an investigation.
“Sara will be dead if Balor gets any whiff of police being involved,” Lucas said. He would have to shift and he didn’t want to have to explain when he did it. “Trust me. I know the guy.”
Michael looked doubtful, but to everyone’s relief, the phone rang.
Mr. Smith’s hand shook as he picked up the receiver. “Hello?” His face blanched as he listened to the message and then slowly hung up.
“I’m to meet him at a Circle K off Loop 820,” he said and swallowed hard. “He said to come alone.”
“It’ll be a fake meet,” Lucas said. “And then they’ll send you to another place and probably a third one. They’ll be looking for a tail.”
“Can’t you just ride with me in the car and stay hidden?” Mr. Smith stammered.
“My guess is that when you get to the Circle K, another car will be waiting for you to use,” Lucas said, “and it will have a monitor to check if you use your cell phone.”
Mr. Smith began to tremble. “Oh, my—”
“Did the guy call you by name?” Michael interrupted.
“No. Why?” The man’s eyes were dilated with fear.
“Then it won’t matter who goes. As long as it’s just one person. I’ll go.”
Lucas had been about to suggest the same thing, but now he reconsidered.
He was ninety-nine percent sure Michael was on their side, but what if he wasn’t?
What if Balor really were controlling his mind?
Sara would be defenseless. However, he’d rather have McCain out in front of him that following behind.
And this would make it easier for him to shift.
He could barely contain the wolf right now, even after centuries of practice.
He took the pendant off from around his neck. “Wear this,” he said as he handed it to Michael. “I’ll be able to find you.”
Mr. Smith started to open his mouth to ask a question, but snapped it shut. Michael just gave Lucas a long look and then slipped the cross over his head.
“Let’s get the show on the road, then,” he said.
****
Sara recognized the man instantly. Even though he was impeccably tailored in an expensive Armani suit and silk tie, she would have known that eye patch anywhere.
It was the man from the shadows at Sotheby’s.
The air suddenly became oppressively still, like low-hanging black clouds before a major storm.
He hardly glanced her way. “Well done,” he said to the two men as he sat down at the table and placed a bottle of Glenlivet scotch on the table. “You’ll be well-rewarded. Have either of you gentlemen tasted this before?”
Manipulator. Both of them probably had criminal records a yard long. But they straightened in their chairs and the younger one grinned.
“Can’t say that we have.”
Baylor gave him a cultured smile. “Then you’re in for a real treat. Glasses?”
The older one went to the cupboard and came back with three glasses and Baylor poured the liquor. “To a good job, well done,” he said and lifted his glass.
The brothers drained theirs as though they were chugging beer, which is probably what they were used to, Sara thought as she watched covertly. She noticed that Baylor didn’t really swallow any of his.
“Well, now,” he said after they’d finished a second round, “let me pay you so you can be on your way.” He looked over at Sara and grinned. “I have plans for the lady.”
The men snickered, took their money and left.
Baylor remained sitting at the table until he heard the engine fade away into the distance.
Then he took a linen handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wiped his fingerprints off the glass and the bottle.
“I wouldn’t drink any of that if I were you,” he said as he came over and sat down on the sofa near Sara.
A chill ran through her, whether from his presence or the fact that he had all but admitted the liquor had been poisoned. And the incriminating evidence would lead to her. If she were still alive, that is.
“You want the document,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow. “A woman that gets right to the point. I like that. So why don’t you tell me what you know?”
Sara clamped her mouth shut.
“The manuscript is already on its way here,” he said, “but I thought we could have a pleasant conversation while waiting for it.”
She didn’t answer.
“Come now,” he said reasonably, “we can do this the easy way and you won’t get hurt. Tell me what I want to know.”
She felt the first probe he sent into her mind like a solid wood door had been slammed into her face. She brought her psychic shield up, reinforcing it with the energy she had gathered earlier.
He laughed. “I like witches,” he said. “You offer a challenge.”
Sara could feel his power trying to wind its way around her defenses. She closed her eyes and envisioned another layer of light shielding her.
“Ah, well then, we’ll do it the old-fashioned way.”
She heard a sharp click and opened her eyes to see a switchblade in his hand. He leaned forward and brushed her cheek with the side of the blade. “You’re beautiful now, Sara. Wonder how Ramsey will feel if you aren’t so pretty?”
She held her breath and steeled herself, but he turned the blade unexpectedly.
“If I had wanted to cut you, I would have,” he said, then touched her throat with the tip. She willed herself not to move.
“Still not afraid?” he asked.
Fear. She must not show fear. He fed off it. Dear Goddess! Help me! Give me courage to get through this! And live! She tugged at the ropes. If only she could free her hands!
Baylor frowned and snapped the knife shut.
“You might be more of a challenge than I thought. Did you know,” he asked as he leaned over and yanked a handful of her hair, “that centuries ago, women had their heads shaved, and then their pubic hair also, if the witch’s mark didn’t appear anywhere else? Just before they were burned.”
Sara tried not to wince at his painful clutch. “What are you talking about?”
“Ah, you do speak,” he said and sat back. “You’ve given me an awful lot of trouble, Sara. You’ll have to pay for that. I don’t suppose you’re a virgin still?”
Sara looked away.
“Pity,” Baylor said.