Authors: Maya Banks
Keep Me Safe
To May Chen for being tenacious and allowing me to write a story that has lived in my mind for many years
xoxo . . .
CONTENTS
CALEB
Devereaux turned out of the sharp switchback and onto the driveway leading up to the tiny mountain cabin, swearing when he hit pothole after pothole. Fury and impatience simmered in his blood but the anticipation of having finally found Ramie St. Claire after an exhaustive search kept his mood from being completely black.
Ramie was his sister, Tori's, only hope.
The moment Tori was kidnapped, Caleb had begun his search for Ramie St. Claire. She certainly wasn't the first person on most people's go-to list when looking for a loved one. Ramie was psychic and had been helpful in locating victims in the past. While many would be skeptical, Caleb absolutely believed in Ramie's abilities.
His own sister had psychic abilities.
He and his brothers, Beau and Quinn, had always been extremely overprotective of their baby sister. With good reason. Caleb was the head of a veritable empire. Security was always top priority. They'd always feared kidnapping for ransom, but in their worst nightmares they'd never imagined that Tori would simply disappear and be at the mercy of a madman.
There'd been no ransom demand. Simply a video of Tori bound hand and foot and the maniacal laughter of her captor as he told Caleb to kiss his sister goodbye.
He just prayed he wasn't too late. God, don't let it be too late for Tori.
It infuriated him that Ramie St. Claire had simply dropped off the map three months ago. No trace of her, no forwarding address. No evidence that she even existed. How could she simply disappear when she was such an invaluable aid in finding kidnap victims and missing persons? How selfish of her to simply refuse, by her actions, to help anyone.
He'd worked himself into a rage by the time he finally pulled up to the small cabin that looked as though it wouldn't weather the upcoming winter at all. He wasn't even certain there would be electricity. Only a person determined not to be found would live in a place like this.
He got out and strode to the ramshackle front door, his fist up and pounding. The door shook and rattled under the force of his knock. Only silence greeted him and it sent his blood pressure soaring.
“Miss St. Claire!” he roared. “Answer the goddamn door!”
He beat on the door again, shouting for her to answer. He likely looked and sounded like the madman holding his sister, but at this point he didn't care. He was beyond desperation. It had taken every resource available to him to finally track Ramie down. No way in hell he was leaving until he'd gotten the information he'd come for.
Then the door swung open and he was greeted by the sight of a petite woman with wary gray eyes. He was momentarily taken aback, going silent as he stared at Ramie St. Claire for the first time in person.
The photos he'd seen of her didn't do her justice. There was a delicate air to her as though she were recovering from an illness, but it in no way detracted from her beauty. She lookedâ
. . .â
âfragile. He felt a brief moment of guilt for what he was about to ask her to do, but he brushed it away. There was no price too high to pay for his sister's life.
“I can't help you.”
Her softly spoken words slid like velvet over his ears, a direct contrast from the anger her refusal caused. He hadn't even made his request yet and she was already giving him the brush-off.
“You don't even know what it is I want,” he said in an icy tone that would wither most people.
“It's rather obvious,” she said wearily, fatigue drooping her eyelids. “Why else would you come all this way? I don't even want to know how you found me. It's obvious I did a piss-poor job of covering my tracks if you managed to find me here.”
Caleb frowned. Had she been ill? Was that why she'd dropped out of sight, so she could recover? It didn't matter why now that he'd found her. He didn't care what her reasons were.
“With your abilities why would you purposely make yourself difficult to find?” he demanded. “My sister's life is at stake here, Miss St. Claire. I'm not merely asking you to help me. I'm not leaving until you do.”
She shook her head adamantly, fear chasing the lethargy from her eyes. “I can't.”
There was quiet desperation to her words that told him there was more to her refusal than what appeared on the surface. Something was wrong and yet he couldn't summon any regret for forcing her compliance. Not when Tori's life hung in the balance.
He reached inside his jacket and pulled out Tori's scarf. The one item they'd found at the site where she must have been taken. In the parking lot of a grocery store beside the open door of her car. He should have never let her go alone. He'd failed her. Failed to protect her. Failed to ensure proper security.
Ramie immediately backed away, a desperate cry on her lips. He shoved forward, forcing the scarf into her hands and holding her and the scarf so there was no escape. She emitted a broken sob and she looked up at him, stricken, her face going unnaturally pale. Her pupils flared and then clouded, pain and devastation clearly outlined on her features.
“No,” she whispered. “Not again. Oh God, not again. I won't survive it.”
Her knees buckled and she would have gone down, but he caught her, ensuring the scarf never lost contact with her hands. He watched in horror as Ramie's body sagged, slipping from his grasp despite his best effort to support her weight. She was simply lifeless, as limp as a rag doll. He quickly followed her down to the floor, determined that she not lose her grip on Tori's scarf. But it didn't seem to matter now. Ramie was somewhere else.
Her eyes glazed over and her body began to twitch spasmodically. She curled into a fetal position, the fragility of such a self-protective measure gutting him. She moaned softly and then began to weep.
“Please don't hurt me again. Please, I'm begging you. I can't take any more. If you're going to kill me, just do it. Quit torturing me.”
Chill bumps spread rapidly up Caleb's nape as Ramie's voice, which sounded nearly
identical
to Tori's, filled his ears. Dear God, was he witnessing what was happening to his sister through Ramie?
The scene Ramie was painting was horrifying. Not only for the fact that his sister was even now enduring the absolute worst. But from all appearances, Ramie was suffering with her.
He'd certainly done his research on Ramie St. Claire's abilities but there was little information beyond her astonishing success record. No mention of
how
she managed to help victims or what it did to her. God help them all. What had he
done
?
Her body jerked and it took only a moment for Caleb to realize what was happening. It was too unmistakable. Bile rose in his throat and he had to suck in steadying breaths to keep from heaving the contents of his stomach on the floor. Tears burned his eyelids as he helplessly watched his sister being raped through the window of Ramie's awareness.
Ramie's weeping tore at his heart and he gathered her into his arms, not knowing what else to do but rock her gently. “Tori?” He whispered his sister's name experimentally, not knowing if a link had been established through Ramie. “Can you hear me? It's Caleb. Tell me where you are, honey. I'll come for you. Hold on please. Don't give up, no matter how bad it is.”
Ramie's head jerked sideways and the imprint of a hand immediately appeared on her cheek. Caleb was horrified, unsure of what to do now that he'd crossed a line he couldn't come back from. He tried to push back his guilt, telling himself that anything that helped him recover his sister was worth it. But was torturing an innocent woman worth it?
He hadn't given her a choice. She'd told him no and yet he'd forced this on her not knowing the heavy toll it would take. He had no idea how her powers worked and now that he did he was sick to his soul. No wonder she'd been so resistant. No wonder she'd told him she couldn't do it anymore.
“Ramie. Ramie!” he said in a more forceful voice. “Come back to me, Ramie. Come back so you can tell me how to find her.”
Ramie's eyes were opened but so distant that he knew she wasn't here. The imprint of the hand on her face was bright and vivid, red against deathly white skin. There was a look of such defeat and despair in her eyes that once again he found himself battling tears.
Suddenly she hunched inward, her entire body jolting as though absorbing a blow. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and he realized that she'd been kicked. Or rather Tori had been kicked. It was a horrific, helpless feeling to know that two women were being victimized, one because of
him
.
Then she simply rolled away, her cheek lying against the cold floor, her eyes fixed and vacant. She was completely still and terror gripped him. Was Tori dead? Oh dear
God
! Had he just witnessed his sister's
murder
?
“Ramie! Wake up! God,
please
wake up. Tell me how to find her. Tell me that she's still alive!”
He picked Ramie's slight weight up, swearing because she was so thin and fragile, weighing nothing in his arms. He carried her to the worn sofa and carefully laid her down, not wanting to hurt her any more than she'd already been hurt.
He sat on the edge, gathering her icy hands in his, rubbing, trying to infuse warmth. He had no idea what to do. Should he take her to a hospital?
Then after several long moments, she blinked and seemed to come out of her trance. Pain immediately swamped her features and she began to silently weep again, each tear cutting him to ribbons.
“Is she still alive?” he asked anxiously. “Do you know how to find her?”
“Yes,” Ramie said dully.
Hope surged in his heart and he found himself nearly crushing her hands in his.
“Tell me where,” he urged.
Slowly and painfully she whispered the location down to the minutest detail. Chills once again slithered up his spine at the precision with which she described not only the location but the kidnapper. She even provided a license plate number.