The Order Boxed Set (20 page)

“So, I’m what, like some sort of immortal being?”

“Probably.”

She frowned. “How will I know?”

“You won’t die.”

“Right,” she snapped. “So I’ll just wait around and see, shall I?”

She looked out of the side window. The tinted glass made her feel a little better, knowing nothing could see her, but there appeared nothing strange going on. No gunfire, no screams, and soon they were away from the building and driving through the evening traffic toward Hampstead.

She pulled her mobile out of her bag and tried Jamie again. There was still no answer.

Tara couldn’t seem to rid herself of the feeling of dread as they pulled up in front of her apartment building. She didn’t know what would be better—for Christian to find something, or for there to be no trace of anything bad. Where would they go next if they found no trace of Chloe here?

“Can we go look at your friend’s apartment first?” Christian asked as she let them into the building.

“I don’t have keys,” she said.

“It’s not a problem.”

Tara led the way to Chloe’s apartment. She rang the bell in case Chloe had returned but wasn’t surprised when there was no answer. Christian examined the lock for a moment. He put his hand against it and pressed. It took no apparent effort, and the lock broke with a sharp crack. He pushed and the door swung open.

Chloe’s bag lay on a small table in the hall. Tara picked it up with trembling fingers. Chloe would never go anywhere without it. She peered inside. Everything was there, Chloe’s purse, her cell phone. Tara put the bag back while Christian opened all the doors that led from the hallway, peered in the rooms.

After a few minutes, he returned. “There’s no sign of anything here. Let’s try your place.”

As he pulled the door closed behind them, Tara pointed to the shattered lock.

“Should we leave it like this?” she asked.

Christian shot her a surprised glance, and considering all that was going on, a broken lock did seem a little low down on the priority list. “I’ll send someone over to fix it,” he said.

Tara led them upstairs and unlocked the door to her apartment.

“Why don’t you go pack a bag,” Christian said, “while I take a look around.”

“Why do I need to pack a bag?”

He turned to her, and she saw the grim resolution in his face. “You are not staying here.”

“Where am I supposed to stay?”

“With me. Now go pack a bag. This is not negotiable.”

“I can’t go. I have to look after Smokey.”

“Take the damn cat with you, whatever, but you are not staying here.”

Tara thought about arguing for all of about ten seconds. Then the fight oozed out of her, and she realized how afraid she’d been at the thought of coming back here, staying alone. The certainty had been growing in her since she’d seen Chloe’s bag in her apartment. Something had taken Chloe while she’d been here feeding Smokey.

Her mind flashed back to those things that had attacked her in the alley. Had something similar taken Chloe? Piers’s words echoed in her head,
They’ll play with you and then eat you
.

Chloe had been gone for four days. If the demons had taken her, maybe Tara should be hoping her friend was already dead.

A wave of nausea washed over her. Running for the bathroom, she slammed the door, fell to her knees, and threw up in the toilet. Her stomach was almost empty, but she wretched and wretched until nothing remained.

After flushing, she stood shakily and caught sight of herself in the mirror. Nothing had changed; she looked the same as always. She poured a glass of water and drank it, then brushed her teeth.

Anything to put off going outside and facing Christian.

She was terrified of what he’d discover about her friend. Her skin was clammy, her knees weak and she sank down onto the edge of the bath. Her head ached and she pressed her fingers to her eyes to relieve the pressure.

Maybe there was still a chance. Maybe the demons would use Chloe as a hostage and wouldn’t actually hurt her. Taking a deep breath, she got to her feet.

Christian lounged against the doorway into the kitchen. He straightened as he saw her emerge and gestured into the kitchen. She went through and found he had made her coffee. Sinking into a chair, she cupped the hot mug in her hands.

“Tell me,” she said.

“You haven’t taken off the talisman here?”

She shook her head.

“Then I’m pretty sure demons have her. I can sense their presence, faint, but it’s here.”

A shaft of pain stabbed her. She bit her lip, not trusting herself to speak until she was under control.

“Why would they take her?”

“Maybe they came for you and found her instead. She may still be alive, Tara. If they’ve taken her to get to you, they might not harm her too much.”

“So they might be willing to do a swap. Me for her?”

Christian’s face closed up. “That is not an option.”

“I think that’s for me to decide.”

“We’ll find her, and if she’s still alive we’ll get her back. I’ll call Piers and see if we can get the trackers on to this right away.”

Tara needed to do something; she couldn’t face sitting around thinking about what Chloe might be going through—she wouldn’t allow Christian to shut her somewhere safe while he hunted.

Christian was speaking softly on the phone. He glanced at her, then turned away and lowered his voice. Tara tried to tell herself that it wasn’t more bad news, but couldn’t rid herself of the dread lodged in her middle.

She sipped her drink to get rid of the bad taste in her mouth, but the coffee made her sick, and she put it down. Her bag needed to be packed and she had to find Smokey. There’d been no sign of him since they’d arrived, and she couldn’t bear to leave him here alone.

Christian made no move to stop her as she left the kitchen. Smokey was nowhere to be found, and in the end, Tara gave up and went into the bedroom. She remembered the last time she’d packed this same bag. Chloe had been next to her, joking and full of life, and finally the tears spilled over. Tara sank onto the bed and sobbed. When she stopped, she found Christian regarding her from the open doorway. He had his blank face on, and the fear inside her spiraled out of control.

“We have to go to the Order.”

“I haven’t finished packing.”

“Leave it. We’ll sort it out later.”

“And Smokey’s not here. I have to find him.”

“I promise we’ll come back for the cat, but we need to get over there now. They’ve found Chloe.”

“I don’t understand. Who’s found her?”

“The Order. I don’t have all the details. We’ll find out once we get there, but the description fits Chloe. And we need to get over there fast.”

Chapter Twenty

This would be bad, and Christian didn’t know to make it any easier.

He would have preferred to drop Tara at his place, where she would be safe, but he wasn’t convinced she would stay put. And Piers had been blunt; if they wanted to talk to the girl, they had better get there fast.

He cast a sideways glance at his passenger. Tara appeared so small huddled in the seat, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her face pale. He wanted to hold her, tell her it would all be all right, but he knew that wasn’t the case.

He sighed. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” He came around and opened the door for her, and she climbed out. At least she’d stopped shivering.

He led her toward the elevators and frowned as he noticed Piers in the shadows by the doors, one shoulder resting against the wall, his arms crossed. He appeared relaxed, but Christian could sense his tension. His eyes were fixed on Tara, and he did not look happy.

“What the fuck’s she doing here?” he asked.

“Just leave it, Piers,” Christian growled. “Where’s the girl?”

“You’re too late,” he said. “She died ten minutes ago.”

Christian put his arm around Tara as she sagged against him. “Thanks Piers,” he muttered.

Piers raised an eyebrow. “You brought her here. I did warn you. If she can’t take it, you should have left her at home. Where she belongs.”

Tara tugged at his arm. “Is he talking about Chloe?” Christian could hear the edge of panic in her voice. She was close to losing it. “Tell me. Is it Chloe?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well let’s go and find out, shall we?” Piers said.

Christian held her in the crook of his arm as the elevator descended deep below the building. She seemed to have gone somewhere within herself.

“Why did you bring the girl here?” he asked Piers softly. “You don’t usually bother with humans.”

“This one was a little different.”

Christian frowned. He hated it when Piers went all cryptic. “In what way?”

“Well, for one thing, she’s got Christian Roth written all over her. Literally. I thought you’d want to see. Besides, she was still alive. I thought she might be able to tell us something.” He pursed his lips, studied Christian for a moment. “You know this is shaping up into some sort of vendetta, and you’re the target. Just what was this girl to you?”

“If she’s who I think she is, then nothing. She’s Tara’s neighbor, I only ever set eyes on her once. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Like just about everything going on around here.”

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Piers led them out and down the corridor to the medical center. He stopped in front of a door.

Christian turned to Tara. “Wait here. Let me check if it is Chloe first. If it isn’t, there’s no reason for you to see this.”

Tara shook her head. It was what he’d expected and he resigned himself to coping with the inevitable fallout. He’d seen demon kills before, and this wouldn’t be pretty. And if they’d killed the girl to get at him for some reason, they would have made sure it would make an impression.

Piers glanced between the two of them. “Christian, this is not a good idea.”

“I’m going in,” Tara said. She sounded determined and her small hand slipped into Christian’s and gripped it tight.

Piers shrugged. “Okay, but if you throw up, you clean it up.”

He pushed open the door. Christian followed him through and the scent of fresh blood hit him straight away. Fresh blood and charred flesh. He squeezed Tara’s hand.

They were in a small room, bare but for two beds and some medical equipment that had been pushed out of the way.

On one of the beds lay the naked and mutilated body of a young woman. He heard a sound beside him and reached out just in time to prevent Tara from collapsing to the floor in a dead faint. He picked her up in his arms, held her tight. Thankfully, she was unconscious. Crossing the room, he laid her on the empty bed, and she curled in on herself, moaning softly. He stroked her face, but she was still out, and he turned back to the body.

He stood over the bed and stared down at the corpse. Chloe was clearly recognizable; her face had hardly been touched, just her lips bitten through.

She’d been tortured, probably raped, though it was hard to tell because the damage was so bad. “Christian Roth” was branded into her flesh, not once but on every available piece of skin. She’d also been partially devoured, chunks of flesh bitten out, leaving open wounds. Her wrists and ankles were scarred by red raw bracelets.

“She was alive when you found her?”

“Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

“Did she say anything?”

“Couldn’t really.” Piers gripped Chloe’s jaw and opened her mouth. Her tongue was missing. “Bitten off, by the looks of it.” He let her go and stepped back. “So, who hates you enough to send you this little present?”

“Probably any number of people, but why her? She’s nothing to me. Why go to all this bother for someone I hardly know? All the others were close to me; this one makes no sense.”

“Unless she wasn’t the one they were after.”

Christian hadn’t wanted to think about that. Now he forced himself. They had taken Chloe from Tara’s apartment. He was becoming more and more certain it had been Tara they’d come for.

He’d thought this was somehow linked to what they had discovered in Yorkshire. But what if it had nothing to do with who Tara was, except that she was close to Christian.

He had a vision of Tara lying across that bed, her body mutilated and burned, and a wave of fury surged through him so strong that Piers took a step back.

If someone had wanted to hurt him, they would have succeeded beyond measure. He cast another glance at Chloe and gave silent thanks that she had died in Tara’s place.

“What are you thinking?” Piers asked.

“That they got the wrong woman.” He nodded at the body on the bed. “She was at Tara’s place while we were away. They came for Tara and took Chloe by mistake. I doubt they even realized it. But it still doesn’t make a lot of sense. I’ve only known Tara for a short while. Why would anyone connect her to me or even think I cared enough for it to matter?”

“And does she matter?” Piers gestured to the unconscious girl on the other bed.

“Oh, yes,” Christian said softly. “But the question is who would know that? I will find out, and they will be very, very sorry.”

A small moan came from Tara. Christian dragged a folded sheet at the end of the bed to cover Chloe’s body. He crossed the room, sank down to the bed beside Tara, and stroked a finger down her face.

“I’ll leave you to deal with her,” Piers said. “I hate hysterical women. Oh, and Ella has the information you need, if you want to see her before you leave.”

He opened the door, but paused in the doorway. “By the way, did you mark her?”

Christian shook his head.

“Are you going to tell me why?”

“No.”

Piers opened his mouth to argue.

“Just leave it, Piers. I’ll vouch for her.”

Piers nodded once and closed the door behind him.

…

Tara didn’t want to wake up. Something terrible waited for her on the other side of consciousness, and she clung to the darkness.

But whether she liked it or not she became aware of someone seated beside her. It was Christian, and his fingers stroked her hair. It felt good and she pushed against his hand. Anything to delay the moment.

The air in the room hung heavy with the scent of blood and something else, like cooked meat. Icy cold washed over her and she huddled into the bed. Suddenly, she knew what that foul stench was—Chloe, or what was left of her. Beautiful Chloe, reduced to charred meat.